


Not That I'm Complaining

by robocryptid



Series: Not That I'm Complaining [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Background Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Barebacking, Blackwatch (Overwatch) - Freeform, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Genji Shimada, Blackwatch Hanzo Shimada, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Come Eating, Face-Sitting, Hanzo Shimada is a (Sexy) Little Shit, Implied Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Jesse McCree is Too Horny to Function, Learning To Communicate, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Original Character(s), Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, Rimming, The Fastest Burn, Young Genji Shimada, Young Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robocryptid/pseuds/robocryptid
Summary: An AU in which both Shimadas join Blackwatch, and Jesse McCree falls in love dick first. Approximately 50/50 porn to feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Update September 2, 2018: [Freebooter4Ever](https://freebooter4ever.tumblr.com) drew some _amazing_ art for the opening scene! I've linked each pic in the relevant spots in the fic, but you can also see the whole thing [here](https://freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/post/177629289199/jesse-didnt-even-really-get-chewed-out-for-it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is purely fun, constructed loosely from drabbles I wrote to distract me from the angst of [Throwing Stones at the Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404681/chapters/30710610). Somehow it got a little feelings-heavy, but it's still a lot of porn. 
> 
> This chapter is mostly setup with some fun UST and flirting and a side of Jesse's _embarrassingly_ cheesy, dirty fantasies.

Jesse was mighty proud of this one. Gabe had trusted him, made him his right hand man for this job, and the whole thing went off without a hitch. It took most of Blackwatch and no small number of Overwatch good guys, but they brought the Shimada-gumi to its knees in one quick, devastating blow. Now Jesse just had to oversee the cleanup, figure out who went where.

That part went smooth enough. Gabe gave him a good breakdown anyway: put the bigwigs in international custody, give the rest to the feds but not the local police. The Shimadas had owned them for decades already. Jesse owed some Shimada traitors a deal, but Gabe had cleared that too, didn’t see why a couple of straight up ninjas couldn’t be a part of Blackwatch. It was a better fate than prison, Jesse suspected. He couldn’t know for sure, had taken the same deal years ago in the hopes he never would.

It was all smooth sailing until Khemiri flagged him down, told him Jesse, personally, might have a problem. The sons were asking to speak with him, and Khemiri was real squirrely about it. Jesse sighed, determined then and there that if either of these punks fucked up his chance to show Gabe what he could do, he was just gonna shoot them.

He stomped into the room, and, well, he might feel a little anxious and a little angry and a little cocky, but he was also a hot-blooded man. The sight of the two of them on their knees was a pretty one. Both had their hands up by their heads, elbows out, the picture of surrender. But Jesse knew better, had read their files. These two were a couple of murderous assholes, just like their daddy and the whole rest of their clan. They probably had a dozen ways to kill him all mapped out in their heads already.

[The one on the left gave him a sharp, toothy smile. “Whose dick do I have to suck to cut a deal around here?” Of course he spoke perfect English. Jesse moved closer, took a look at the light sheen of sweat on his skin, the massive pupils. “Please tell me it’s yours, cowboy,” he crooned, gave Jesse the bedroom eyes. Green hair, drugged up, filthy mouth; this must’ve been the baby brother.](https://78.media.tumblr.com/1e20b7c3a8bbe8779dc5748b6a6fd4f9/tumblr_pee48lQ0xQ1ql2w85o1_1280.png)

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Green-hair pouted at him. “Ain’t how it works.”

“But you did cut a deal,” said the one on his right. This was the older one then, just about Jesse’s age. He had a low voice that made Jesse’s insides curl up nice and warm. Unlike his brother, he looked completely sober, had eyes that could cut right though a man. Even on his knees and surrounded by agents, he looked like he was the one in charge. It rubbed Jesse all wrong in more than a few senses. “We will provide our services to your organization in exchange for our freedom.”

Jesse snorted, looked him right in the eye. “Will you now?”

“Are you not a man of your word?” One imperious brow raised at him, coupled with a little twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Jesse stopped short then, stared hard at him. [Their informant had been masked, but he’d had a low voice, had the same coffee-colored eyes, a fan of lashes so dark Jesse’d thought he was wearing makeup. And that piercing was pretty distinctive; he remembered little dents on the informant’s nose where he’d removed it.](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2b65ae3a7fda38553c28a4d200d21574/tumblr_pee48lQ0xQ1ql2w85o3_1280.png) “I am that,” Jesse said, a little uneasy. “What’d I tell you to say?”

[That sly mouth curled slow into a little smirk, and he dropped his voice low. “I’m your huckleberry,” he said in a passable imitation of Jesse’s drawl.](https://78.media.tumblr.com/5022667f12747274c4ee1c2b6cb7bbd2/tumblr_pee48lQ0xQ1ql2w85o2_1280.png) Someone behind Jesse burst into laughter.

[“Son of a bitch.”](https://78.media.tumblr.com/e2b127c32a39bc9e74e693444da280ce/tumblr_pee48lQ0xQ1ql2w85o4_1280.png) Gabe was gonna kill him.

* * *

The long and the short of it was that Blackwatch got played. The Shimada-gumi got played. Jesse specifically got played. But Gabe honored the deal anyway, said if the brothers didn’t pan out there was no shame in shooting them. Jesse was reasonably sure he wasn’t serious, but there was always that chance with Gabe.

Jesse didn’t even really get chewed out for it, got nothing more than a quick lecture on screening his informants better. He would’ve, too, if he hadn’t been so greedy with how juicy the intel was, how quick and easy the mission could go with that kinda detail. And it _had_ been quick and easy, had worked out just like the guy had said, except for the whole “I’m really the heir to this criminal empire” reveal.

Gabe did get around to punishing him a little though: he made it Jesse’s job to acclimate their new agents. Jesse’d been through both sides of it before, sort of. It might have just been a good idea, another responsibility to test Jesse’s resolve, but just like he was pretty sure Gabe wouldn’t actually kill the Shimadas, he was pretty sure it was meant as some kinda lesson. Either way, it meant Gabe still trusted him enough to handle it. Gabe also didn’t seem to care much if Jesse got stabbed in the process.

Both Shimadas, out of their home and traditional get-ups, turned out to be some real hipster types. They had a lot of clothes, a lot of piercings, and some wildass tattoos. Jesse was a confident man, and he knew he was good-looking, but he had nothing on guys from that kind of money. They were the sort of clean and shiny handsome that just oozed a wealthy background, no matter how much they dressed like shitty punks. It made a lot of folks uneasy; the style wasn’t the problem, but most folks in Blackwatch had humbler beginnings. Maybe they weren’t all exactly like Jesse, but they were a lot farther removed from the Shimadas.

Genji had a little trouble when they first arrived, got real edgy for a while when he came down, a little moody when he realized that shit wouldn’t fly in Blackwatch. He bounced back quick, though, seemed weirdly excited by the new adventure. He was friendly enough, and the other agents liked him, thought he was funny. Nobody really trusted a guy like Genji right away, but they’d laugh at his jokes and let him in on card games. He tried to cheat, but that just made him fit in easier; half the game in Blackwatch was learning to cheat without getting caught.

Hanzo, though, didn’t fit quite so well. They had plenty of types like him in Blackwatch, folks who kept to themselves, didn’t show much trust or make many friends, who always looked a little suspicious of their company. Hard part was, having those traits in common meant people like that didn’t talk to each other. It was harder still when he looked like _that_ and carried himself like a prince among peasants. Jesse wasn’t the only one to notice. When folks were bored and felt like gossip, Hanzo’s superior attitude made for easy fodder.

There was other talk, too, about him and Genji both. It made sense. Jesse’d been on the receiving end himself, saw it both toward and from new recruits all the time. They were all stuck in here together, most of them young. Cabin fever and hormones made it hard not to notice when someone was good-looking, and Hanzo was hot in a way that was almost unreal. Genji, too, but Genji didn’t make himself untouchable, flirted right back with anyone and everyone, and folks got used to him.

Jesse, as their dubiously-chosen guide to Blackwatch, was more welcome than most, though with Hanzo that meant only that Jesse could get within five feet and not get a look that said he might get murdered. In the rec room today, Genji waved Jesse over where the two of them were playing cards. He joined, and he was followed by Ford, who seemed to take the invitation as a free-for-all. Jesse watched him cozy up to Hanzo, and he wondered. Jesse wasn’t real worried about Ford getting real far, but Jesse eyed him anyway, wondered if Hanzo’s tastes ran to tall or blond or men at all. Jesse suspected they might at least include men, but he had no real information to work with beyond a gut feeling and maybe a little wishful thinking.

Ford sat down on the floor between Jesse and Hanzo, like he’d been invited all along. Hanzo looked unimpressed, which on his face looked a lot like he was considering whether you were worth the effort to kill. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” Ford said in his posh British accent. Khemiri swore it was fake, but Jesse’s ear wasn’t that well trained.

Ford tried a smile, and Hanzo only stared back until Genji took pity on the guy. Or schemed up some way to fuck with him. Jesse was still trying to figure out how to tell with Genji. “Genji Shimada. This is my brother, Hanzo.”

“William Ford.” He looked sideways at Jesse, like he expected Jesse to help him out. “McCree, I’m offended you never introduced us. I thought we were friends.” Jesse snorted, couldn’t help it. He was friendly enough with a lot of Blackwatch, but he and Ford weren’t pals by any stretch of the imagination.

Hanzo looked at Ford, gave him a quick up and down, and Jesse tried not to find it too interesting. Ford straightened his shoulders, didn’t seem to mind at all that he was being sized up. Then Hanzo said only, “No,” and he looked back at his cards.

Jesse tried not to laugh at the look on Ford’s face. He wondered how often anybody turned a guy like that down. Ford still tried it. “I don’t believe I asked a question.”

Hanzo didn’t even look at him, just stared at his cards like something smelled bad. Genji snickered. The silence went on a tick before Jesse said, “Not sure that much matters, _friend_. Answer’s no.” Inside, Jesse felt a little smug. He leaned closer to Ford, conspiratorial, and gave him a stage whisper. “He’s a real life ninja. Don’t think you wanna risk makin’ him repeat himself.”

Ford looked at Jesse, and something on his face made Jesse feel like squirming a little. “I see. I’ll be off then.”

Genji was smirking to himself, and he dealt Jesse in. Hanzo smirked too. If Jesse’s eyes didn’t deceive him, Hanzo seemed to peek over his cards at Jesse, just a little glance before he went back to them. Jesse held his breath and went back over the mission briefs in his mind, all the suspected kills. It didn’t help as much as it should.

* * *

Training with the Shimadas was real revealing. They started in the shooting range, a little squad of agents with Reyes himself barking orders. One at a time, each squad member stepped up to the plate, took on a few stationary targets, then randomized moving ones, obstacles flying in the way. Jesse usually found these boring. He knew he was a hell of a shot, but he didn’t see the point in training standing in one place. He’d told Gabe as much, but Gabe had just muttered something about resources and funding that Jesse found real understimulating. Today, though, he got to see Hanzo and Genji shoot for the first time. He figured a couple of yakuza ought to be good with a gun, but both shot with an accuracy that made his head swim a little. Gabe read out the scores, starting with the lowest. The surprise came when he listed Genji and Hanzo in third and second place. Jesse was on top as usual, with a near perfect 348. Several of the squad rolled their eyes at him, but it didn’t pass by anybody that Hanzo was only two points behind. He could feel Hanzo’s eyes on him.

“You mad you got beat?” Jesse asked with a grin.

“No.” Hanzo didn’t elaborate on it, just pinned him in place with a look. Jesse felt a little like a dog, ready to roll over and show him his belly. It was a funny thought, and it made the back of his neck get hot.

“Did a good job. Most folks don’t get within 20 points of me.” Jesse resisted the urge to puff out his chest, mostly. He saw Khemiri roll her eyes.

“McCree, you’re on cleanup. Quit gloating and get to work,” Gabe barked. Jesse did as he was told, but he could feel eyes on him the whole time.

Hand-to-hand didn’t go quite as well. He got Ford down to the mat and finally into a nasty submission, but it was hard won, got him sweaty enough that he had to claw his shirt off when it was done just to breathe right. Hanzo and Genji were still going, long after everyone else had been made to get off the mat. Gabe was smart to pair them together, because any of the rest of them would’ve been knocked flat on their ass by either of those two. The rest of the squad turned into an audience, watching them together. It almost looked like they were dancing. And normally, they didn’t look a whole lot alike, save for those eyebrows, but while they fought they had a pair of matching, fierce little grins, seemed to be talking shit to each other in their own tongue. This was _fun_ for them. Jesse wondered if they were holding back, if this was some kind of exercise routine. Then Hanzo whipped out a hand, so fast Jesse almost didn’t follow, and Genji dropped flat on his back. Genji was totally still for a second, and the whole room tensed up until they heard Genji’s wheezing laughter.

“Dirty!” Genji cried out, rubbing his chest. He wheezed there on the ground for a moment, then Hanzo helped him up, said something to him in Japanese that made Genji laugh again.

These weren’t scored the way the others were, but Hanzo had still beat everybody in the room and knew it. He looked right at Jesse with a smug little smirk, and Jesse felt it like an electric bolt, something that shot through every nerve and straight to his dick. It froze him in place, let both Shimadas walk up to him with his brain busy trying to relocate to somewhere well below his skull.

“Mad that you got beaten?” Hanzo asked, mocking him with his own words. His cheeks were a little pink with exertion, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Jesse felt a little self-conscious about it, could feel how bad he needed a shower with the sweat drying tacky on his skin.

“Not at all,” he said, happy his voice still worked just fine. “Was a helluva show.” Genji laughed at that, but he was still rubbing his chest like it’d hurt something fierce. “‘Sides, I won mine,” he added with a smile, felt the need to brag a little.

Hanzo’s eyes flicked over him, just a quick look, and he still had that haughty, unimpressed expression, but Jesse felt his whole body go hot anyway. “Hm. It shouldn’t have been difficult, given the partner.”

Jesse’s gut told him a lot of things, most of them unhealthy. He went with it this time. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, felt them droop lower on his hips, and he saw Hanzo look. _Caught him_. “You sayin’ I need a challenge?”

Hanzo’s eyes glittered. “I’d have you on your back in less than a minute.”

Jesse grinned, made sure it was nice and slow the way he’d been told people liked. “I bet you would, darlin’.” He still couldn’t tell, entirely, if he was about to get the shit beat outta him, but he went for it anyway. “Wouldn’t mind that a bit.” Beside him, Genji choked on another laugh.

After sparring came more training sims, this one a team effort with weapons of choice. They were stuck into teams by names drawn from a hat, fairest way to do it, but Jesse still felt a little bad for the other team. Hanzo was formidable, but between Jesse, Genji and Khemiri, he figured his red team would have this in the bag.

He took down Dinh first, caught the guy trying to sneak up on Khemiri’s perch. Genji’d disappeared but cackled into the comm in his ear right before the computer chimed another two kills for their team. Jesse didn’t wanna be on the receiving end to find out, but he did wanna know how Genji did it, running around with some dulled, mismatched swords in a room full of guns.

“Shit, they have a sniper, too,” Khemiri announced, right before the comp announced her death. Genji cackled again while Jesse moved for cover, tried to track the angle from Khemiri’s last location. The sniper took down two more of their team before Jesse found him. Hanzo was perched way up in the rafters, and God only knew how he got there. He hadn’t seen Jesse yet, but Jesse saw Genji monkeying his way up a straight fucking wall. Hanzo started to turn toward Genji — it figured he knew his brother well enough — and Jesse took aim, watched the red sight of his little laser gun lock in right on Hanzo’s head.

Jesse pulled the trigger, and Hanzo looked down at him offended as the computer announced his death. Jesse saluted him and winked. “Gotcha.”

They cleaned up after, and Genji swung an arm around Jesse. The tally at the end gave Hanzo the most individual kills, but it didn’t matter when their whole team died. Hanzo still looked offended, and the blue team suffered a lecture on teamwork. “A sniper’s no good if his team’s dying around him,” Gabe growled, and it wasn’t clear if the talk was meant for Hanzo or the blind idiots who’d let Genji and Jesse get close enough to take him down.

Jesse didn’t gloat at him this time. Genji was doing plenty for the both of them. “Isn’t Jesse sweet? He avenged me after your cheap shot!” Jesse snorted at the glare Hanzo directed at his brother. Genji only smiled wider, the only person truly immune to Hanzo’s poisonous looks.

Hanzo’s look at Jesse wasn’t really so bad, in comparison. It looked like he was considering something. “I didn’t see you coming,” he said finally. It wasn’t a compliment, not really, but Jesse didn’t know how else he was supposed to take it.

After, they were all sent to the showers. Jesse might’ve ended up at the stall right next to Hanzo’s entirely on purpose, might’ve dragged his shirt back off slow as he could just to see what would happen. Hanzo didn’t seem bothered, didn’t even look at him this time, just stripped right down like Jesse wasn’t even there and stepped inside. Jesse let the water run hot as it could and filed away for later the little peek he’d gotten at Hanzo’s downright incredible ass. He didn’t have the luxury of lingering on it, not here in the communal showers, but he did make sure to parade around in nothing but a towel after for as long as he could get away with.

At dinner he caught Genji eating alone, and he sat with him but didn’t ask after Hanzo. Genji picked at a mound of mashed potatoes, watching it drip from his fork back into the little pile with a strange sort of fascination. Jesse shoveled his own down with ease, and Genji turned that fascinated look on him.

“What?” He asked.

“The food doesn’t bother you?”

Jesse shrugged. He didn’t feel much like explaining to Genji that three square meals a day was more than he’d had before Deadlock, before Blackwatch especially. But he figured a rich kid like this might be a little pickier. “‘S’not bad. Sorry it ain’t gourmet, princess.”

Genji snorted. “I suppose beggars can’t be choosers,” he said. “Still.” He demonstrated his point by picking up his fork with one eyebrow raised, and Jesse watched the thin mush fall back down with a wet plop.

Jesse laughed. It was funny, but it was also a little hard to have any pity, knowing where Genji came from. The luxury of a refined palate had been bought with blood. “Just wait til you try MREs.” Genji looked confused, but he ate and didn’t complain about it again. There was something a little off, and Jesse couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It didn’t seem like he was in a bad mood, but Genji’s usual energy was a little toned down. Jesse almost liked him like this. “You’re quiet. Tired from the trainin’?”

“No,” Genji said, smiling. “You look tired, though.”

“Nothin’ a little beauty sleep won’t cure.”

Genji snorted. “You will need a great deal of it if that’s the purpose.”

Jesse laughed. “Aw, shucks. Here I was, thinkin’ you had eyes.” Genji didn’t take the bait to tease him again. Weird as shit, Jesse decided. Genji teased everybody, flirted with anything with a pulse, and probably omnics too. “Where’s your brother?” Jesse asked, curiosity finally getting the better of him.

“Probably sneaking off to find much better food,” Genji said.

“And he ain’t gonna share? Rude as hell, if you ask me.”

“We don’t share everything,” Genji said with a funny little look, like Jesse was supposed to catch some meaning.

They finished their meal with a little banter, and Jesse decided to have some mercy and explain to Genji that complaining about free food wasn’t going to endear him to most of the Blackwatch crew. Genji took it in with a surprising amount of seriousness, seemed to actually reflect on how different his life had been from most of the people here. He didn’t say much about it, but he implied too that maybe he and Hanzo’d had a reason to sell out their clan; Jesse figured he could be more charitable, stop thinking of it only as rich versus poor, if Genji was willing to see others’ hardships too.

Hanzo never did show up, and Jesse eventually excused himself, went back to his room. He had more than others here too, he supposed. Blackwatch didn’t have the kinda military chain of command that Overwatch did, mostly operated on seniority. But Jesse’d been around since the start, had somehow managed to stay in Gabe’s good graces most of the time, and it meant a room of his own instead of sharing space with a bunch of others.

It afforded him privacy, a luxury few Blackwatch folks had, and he used it well. Or well enough, by his estimation. He lay on his bed and thought about the way he’d caught Hanzo’s eyes flicking over him, thought about the little flash of that damn near perfect ass, and he took himself in hand. He thought about Hanzo’s eyes, hot as they’d been in that ninja get-up, back when he’d met him and thought he was just a guard.

“How do I know this ain’t some trap?” he’d asked, and Hanzo had looked him over.

“You will have to trust,” he’d said. The rest hadn’t happened, but Jesse imagined it anyway. Hanzo gave him another look, long and measuring. “I must be off,” he said, and turned toward the window he’d come in.

Jesse grabbed him, pushed his hard cock right up against him from behind. “The fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

Hanzo gasped and went stiff in his arms, but he pushed his hips back like he just couldn’t help himself. “You think you can manhandle me like this?”

He turned his head, glared back at Jesse with those sharp, glittering eyes. “I think you’re gonna let me,” he growled, gave another rough thrust of his hips and snaked his hand into Hanzo’s pants, found him already hard.

Hanzo made a sweet, desperate little sound, caught rocking between Jesse’s hand and Jesse’s cock against him. Jesse got him good and worked up, and Hanzo gasped so good for him, shoved his pants down to expose himself, spread his legs wide. “Please, Jesse, please.”

Jesse gave him what he wanted. He didn’t even have to prep him, just slid right into his willing body. Hanzo moaned loud, body open and welcoming like Jesse belonged there, came right in Jesse’s hand just from that, but he still pushed back, practically writhed on Jesse’s cock. “Please, Jesse,” he gasped again. Jesse fucked into him, and Hanzo spurred him on, babbling on about how huge he was, how he filled him up just right, felt like nothing he’d ever had before. Jesse’s toes curled and he felt fire in his spine and he came all over his own stomach.

 _Son of a bitch_ , he thought. It turned into a nightly feature, all variations of the same: Hanzo squirming on his dick all needy and sweet about it, Jesse getting off harder than he had to his own hand in a long time. Afterward, every time, a little curl of shame sat in his stomach. Hanzo wouldn’t be the first or likely last teammate Jesse’d fantasized about, but he was the most out of character in Jesse’s fantasies, desperate and begging at the first touch of Jesse’s hands, nothing at all like the prickly asshole he was in real life. And that got Jesse to wondering how he _would_ act, if it were real, and that was more dangerous.

He suffered through it for a full week and a half, though he figured he held up well enough under the pressure, talked to Hanzo same as he always had: mostly straightforward, sometimes with a little swagger when he noticed Hanzo staring. He wondered if Hanzo could tell what kind of stupid shit went on in Jesse’s head.

A team came back from a recon mission. It meant it was time to celebrate a job well done and try not to think about the agent they lost. Gabe went to bed early, “forgot” to lock the rec room and pretended not to notice them smuggling in the alcohol. Genji was downright delighted, if his tongue down Khemiri’s throat was any indication. If Hanzo was put off by catching his brother necking with a coworker, he didn’t show it. It’s not like Genji and Khemiri were the only ones. Jesse wasn’t real worried about her, either. She wasn’t the sort to get attached or take it for anything more than drunken celebration in the morning.

Hanzo was kind of cute when he’d been drinking, Jesse thought, then immediately kicked himself. Hanzo wasn’t drunk, not like his brother, but he had a little color in his cheeks and wasn’t quite glaring at everyone the way he usually did. “Havin’ a good time?” Jesse asked.

Hanzo turned to him, eyes still way too sharp for Jesse’s liking. “That is a very stupid hat,” he said. Jesse was a little offended. He liked his hat, thanks very much. Before he could defend the thing’s honor, Hanzo said, “You look better without it.”

And well. It wasn’t a declaration of intent, but Jesse could work with it. “Yeah? Let’s see how you look in it.” Hanzo looked at him with some skepticism. “I dare ya.”

Delightfully, Hanzo rose to the bait, and maybe that was a sign that he’d indeed had a lot to drink. He yanked it off Jesse’s head and set it down on his own, and Jesse wanted to laugh about how utterly it didn’t suit him, but it got stuck in his throat on a remembered fantasy of Hanzo doing just that while he bounced on Jesse’s dick. “Cat got your tongue?” Hanzo asked, trying to be funny and drawl like Jesse again.

“It ain’t your best look,” Jesse said, pushing past the lump in his throat.

Hanzo took it off and smoothed a hand over his hair. “You should have it back. No one should have to suffer your hat hair.” Jesse took it, straightened it out on his head. It gave him something to think about other than the head full of dirty fantasies. He also took a long pull from his flask, sure he wasn’t gonna get through this without it. “Do they always celebrate so?”

Jesse looked out at the room, at the people hollering over a drunken card game, somebody building a tower out of beer cans, but he figured Hanzo meant the heathens making out in the corners. “It ain’t uncommon. Why, you lookin’ for someone to celebrate with?” He closed a little of the space between them, wondering how far he could push it.

Hanzo cut his eyes at him. “If I were, I would say so.”

It stung a little, but Hanzo hadn’t outright told him to get lost. “Nobody catchin’ your eye, then?”

“I have not yet decided whether they are worth my time.”

And wasn’t that a thing to say? Jesse felt a surge of confidence he probably didn’t earn, and he decided to risk it. He put his hand on the small of Hanzo’s back, ducked his head a little to get closer to his ear. “And what would this person have to do to persuade you?” Hanzo didn’t react at all, didn’t even tense his muscles, much less melt into him and start begging for cock. But he didn’t stab Jesse either, didn’t even pull away, and Jesse’d call that a win.

“Be sober, for one,” Hanzo said, then turned to look at Jesse, seemingly unaffected by Jesse hovering so close to him.

Jesse sucked in a breath. He couldn’t fulfill that right now, exactly, but Hanzo seemed to be implying that maybe some other time, he could. Jesse felt heat creep up the back of his neck. “Yeah? And what else?”

Hanzo didn’t say anything else, just met his eye with a flat, even stare, and Jesse didn’t know if that was the answer or if he wasn’t gonna get one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you ever need me to tag anything, I am happy to do so!
> 
> If you want to come be a big, fannish dork with me, you can find me on Tumblr @ [robo-cryptid](https://robo-cryptid.tumblr.com).
> 
> \---
> 
> Update September 2, 2018: [Freebooter4Ever](https://freebooter4ever.tumblr.com) drew some _amazing_ art for the opening scene! I've linked each pic in the relevant spots in the fic, but you can also see the whole thing [here](https://freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/post/177629289199/jesse-didnt-even-really-get-chewed-out-for-it).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seemed weird to summarize that this fic was mostly porn and provide none, so here’s the chapter that proves my claim. Literally just porn.

Jesse liked a good gamble, maybe was still something of an adrenaline junkie. And as a betting man with a good sense of what made folks tick, he would’ve put good money on this happening. It took less than twenty-four hours after their drunk conversation, if one could even characterize it that way.

Knowing it was probably coming didn’t make it any less of a shock to have Hanzo’s hand down his pants, a fierce little grin on his face. Jesse grunted and pushed up against it, but there wasn’t room for Hanzo’s hand to do more than squeeze a little. He dragged his hand free, licked at his fingers. Those mean, piercing eyes stayed on Jesse’s face, and Jesse thought deliriously about some dumb quote Gabe liked, something about staring into the abyss. He thought he might’ve understood it, then.

“You just gonna tease?” Jesse panted, but he pushed his body up against Hanzo’s in a way that wouldn’t have let him do anything but.

Hanzo nipped at his jaw, clawed fingers down Jesse’s sides under his wide open shirt. It stung like a bitch, and Jesse shuddered a little, caught between shying away from it and arching into the touch. Fucking Shimada. “I am going to do whatever I feel like,” Hanzo purred, and Jesse didn’t feel much up to arguing.

Hanzo pushed him back, just a little, and sank to his knees, same lethal grace he did everything else with. Jesse couldn’t let him get away with everything, though. He jerked a hand through Hanzo’s hair, watched it fall around his face. Hanzo seemed unbothered, just pried open Jesse’s belt and jeans quick and easy like he’d done it a thousand times. Maybe he had, but Jesse’d never been the type to get mad that a man had experience.

Hanzo dug his nails into Jesse’s hips, and Jesse jerked a little, hissed at the pain. “Mean as a snake,” he said, half a reminder to himself. Being on his knees meant fuckall about who was in charge here. Still, Jesse tugged impatiently at his hair, tried to pull him closer. Hanzo only laughed at him, and it was kinda funny how such a cold little sound could make Jesse go hot all over.

Jesse thought he’d go in for the kill, but instead he rubbed his face on it, Jesse’s cock bumping sweet against the side of his smooth cheek, left a sticky little trail of precome. Some of Hanzo’s hair spilled around his dick, tickled in the strangest way. He dipped his head lower, did something funny with his tongue on Jesse’s balls, and Jesse’s knees shook a little. He leaned forward, put his head on his arm to brace himself against the wall. But he couldn’t look away.

If you’d asked him how he’d pictured it, he probably wouldn’t have an answer that matched this. In his dirtiest fantasies he’d had Hanzo split open wide, reduced to a begging mess just for him, sweet and sloppy and wildly outta character, and if he tried to introduce any realism to the scene, he’d figured he’d be the one on his knees. But he hadn’t pictured this, Hanzo licking little spirals around his balls, closing his mouth real slow around one while his nails dug nasty red marks into Jesse’s hips.

Jesse tugged at his hair again. Hanzo didn’t stop, didn’t even look at him. “You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned.

Hanzo took his time, didn’t seem satisfied until Jesse’s hand was trembling in his hair. He drew up a little, nosed his way through Jesse’s pubic hair. One of his hands mercifully moved from Jesse’s hip, curled loose around the base of his cock. “If I wanted you dead, you would be,” he said mildly. He mouthed along the side of Jesse’s dick until he reached the head, rubbed his lips against it and let it go again. “Do you fear you won’t last?” Hanzo did glance up at him then, and Jesse saw it, that little curve to his lips.

“Got the stamina to fuck that smirk right off your face,” Jesse growled.

Hanzo only laughed at him, but he seemed satisfied that he’d wound Jesse right up. He tongued at the head of Jesse’s dick, closed his pretty mouth right around it. He got his tongue up under the head, too, pressed hard against the nerves there, and the hand on his cock started to move, first slow, careful pulls, then faster, with sharp little twists of his wrist.

Hanzo’s mouth pulled off with an obscene pop, and he licked his tongue down the length, wet lips mouthing at it. From anybody else, Jesse’d be tempted to say it felt like being worshipped. From Hanzo, it felt like he was taking his measure, testing him. Hanzo’s mouth closed around him again and set to work in earnest, short, sharp pulls that had Jesse gasping. He pressed farther down the length of it, screwed his mouth down until Jesse felt resistance, then he drew back, a long, slow drag.

His dick wasn’t some huge monstrous thing, but Jesse knew he wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination. Yet here was Hanzo fucking Shimada, slurping him down like it was nothing, like anyone watching wouldn’t have sympathy pains in their jaw. It drove Jesse a little crazy, and he thrust his hips, experimenting. Hanzo took it easily, swallowed him down right past that little click in his throat, and Jesse heaved out a painful breath.

He jerked at Hanzo’s hair, held him still for a second, then tried something else. Hanzo’s lips were stretched so wide already, but Jesse wanted to see. He trailed a hand down Hanzo’s face, and Hanzo glanced up at him, shifted a little so Jesse could see where his cock pressed up against his cheek. He pressed in with his fingers, hard, groaned with it a little. Hanzo made a little noise that Jesse felt straight in his bones. He kept his fingers there, resting where he could feel it, and his thumb brushed Hanzo’s lip, pressed against the corner. Hanzo opened wider, let his thumb right in.

“Jesus,” he grunted. Something about it felt filthy, filthier than anything else Hanzo’d done, and Jesse couldn’t stop his hips from jerking again. He wondered if Hanzo’d let him do the same thing to his ass, slip his fingers right in alongside his cock and fuck him until he was gaping. His hips jerked again, and he pulled his thumb free, let Hanzo get back to it.

Jesse’s hand slid back to his hair, felt the soft, bristly bits of the undercut. He gathered the longer pieces in his fingers, yanked back until he could see Hanzo’s face, take in those sharp eyes, a little less mean now that they were a little glazed. Jesse fucked his mouth properly, and Hanzo just took it, opened up and swallowed him all down. He even moved his hand back to Jesse’s hip, just let Jesse fuck right past his gag reflex — if he even had one, shit — and straight down his throat. Jesse grabbed his head and shoved, pressed his face right up against Jesse’s groin, and he came so hard he might’ve had some out of body experience.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, hips still moving in stuttering little jerks. He forced himself to loosen his grip on Hanzo’s hair, pretty sure he would get murdered if he tore any out, and Hanzo slid back, let his dick slide free with a wet sound. Hanzo glanced up at him again, lips swollen and wet, a little shine on the side of his face where Jesse’s precome had been, painting the most kissable, filthy picture Jesse’d ever seen. He wondered if Hanzo’d let him kiss him.

“Finished so soon?” Hanzo asked, voice all kinds of low and growly now.

“Ain’t done with you yet,” he grit out. “Just… gimme a second.” Hanzo laughed, and it sent a little skitter along Jesse’s nerves. Hanzo’s fingers pet at Jesse’s hips, up over his twitching stomach and down the insides of his shaky thighs. It certainly didn’t speed his recovery, but the asshole probably knew that.

Jesse decided to brave it anyway. He pushed back from the wall, jerked his shirt the rest of the way off to let his over sensitive skin breathe. He caught Hanzo eyeing him appreciatively, and he wondered if he should put on a show for him sometime. “You gonna stay dressed?” He moved to the bed, sat down with some relief, then tugged off his boots and the rest of his clothes.

Hanzo took his time, again, looked like nothing less than a predator as he got to his feet. He worked slow getting his clothes off, too, but Jesse didn’t mind that so much. Hanzo peeled his shirt off good and slow, and Jesse got a good look at him, at the ridged abs and the swell of his pecs. Jesse knew he was gonna get his mouth on them soon as Hanzo was in reach. Everything about Hanzo seemed to burn, slow and controlled or wild and devastating. His eyes on Jesse were hot as he made a show of undoing his belt.

Finally, finally, he peeled off the last of his clothes, and like the cruel son of a bitch he was, dodged Jesse reaching for him to settle himself on the edge of the bed. Jesse got the hint, dropped hard to the floor and budged himself up between Hanzo’s thighs. Hanzo let him touch him, then, and Jesse’s mouth went straight to one of those pecs, just like he’d wanted. He mouthed at it, squeezed it hard in his hand. Hanzo tasted just a little salty with sweat, and his hand curled up in Jesse’s hair, held him right there. Jesse sighed, dug his teeth into the muscle, and he felt Hanzo’s thigh jump under his other hand.

Good, he thought. Bastard wasn’t totally unresponsive. Jesse decided to forego squeezing at Hanzo’s thigh to play with his pecs with both hands. Hanzo braced himself on the bed with one hand, kept the other soft on the back of Jesse’s neck. Jesse, meanwhile, gave in and practically feasted, mouth sliding over Hanzo’s chest and hands grasping, squeezing. He pressed a wet kiss to Hanzo’s sternum, squeezed both hands to catch his face between the muscle, and Hanzo made a soft, quiet noise. Jesse looked up at him then, a thumb on each nipple. “You like this?”

“Yes,” Hanzo said, no shame to be found in him. “Use your mouth.” He guided Jesse’s face to the side, and Jesse happily followed, flicked his tongue over a nipple, then pressed it flat to it. He felt the little catch of Hanzo’s breath, so he closed his mouth around it, sucked it and the surrounding flesh right in. He rolled the other under his thumb until Hanzo arched into his mouth, then he pinched it, hard. That got an actual noise, so he did it again, then closed his mouth around that one instead, laved soothingly over it with his tongue. He captured the other between first and second finger, massaged his saliva into Hanzo’s skin there.

Hanzo didn’t make a lot of noise, but Jesse could feel him arch and catch his breath, seemed to do it no matter what, responded to it however hard or soft Jesse was about it. He could do it for hours, he figured, just bury his face in Hanzo’s chest and never come up for air, survive on those rare, precious little moans and the weight of Hanzo’s hand on his neck. Jesse flicked his tongue rapidly over one of them, rubbed his spit into the skin again, then bit down. Hanzo pushed into it, and the grip on the back of his neck tightened. “Enough,” he said.

He pushed down, and Jesse gave his tortured nipple another little lick, gave his chest another longing look before he moved on. Hanzo’s cock was just drooling, little rivulets sliding down and soaking into the sparse hair below. Jesse felt more than a little proud. “Shit, guess you did like that.” He traced a finger through it, admired the way the pretty thing gave a little twitch. And of course Hanzo’s cock was pretty, because everything else about him was too. “Goddamn, darlin’.” He rubbed a thumb over the head, curled his fingers and gave the whole thing a pull. “Look at you all soakin’ wet for me.”

He gathered a generous amount on his finger, wriggled it back behind Hanzo’s balls. Hanzo got the picture, scooted closer to the edge of the bed and let Jesse hitch one thigh up over his shoulder. He pressed the wet finger to his hole, felt it flutter and open easily for him. “Lube’s over there,” he said, jerking his chin toward the table beside the bed. Hanzo fetched it for him, stretched and twisted real nice for a second before he returned with it. Jesse rested his head against the thigh on his shoulder, scraped his stubble along the soft skin. He wished he could see. He bet Hanzo’s hole was just as hot as the rest of him, and he could feel it open up easy around his finger. He pulled it back, coated it with lube, and wriggled it back in, a second sliding right up there too. Jesse kissed at his muscled thigh, liked how silky it felt under his lips. “You open up real good, don’t you?” he purred, sliding both fingers in right up to the knuckle. He flexed them apart, felt him stretch open, then massaged deep as he could past the muscle. He tried his luck with a third, slipped them almost out and bumped the tip of it. He felt the rim flutter again, the barest hint of resistance, then it pulled them in, let Jesse work right back up to the knuckle. “Fuckin’ greedy for it, ain’t ya? How many you think I can get in there?”

Hanzo’s hand returned to the back of his neck, dragged him closer into the clasp of his thighs. “As many as you want, provided you put your mouth to better uses.” Jesse laughed, wondered at how Hanzo could still talk like that with three fingers stretching him open and taking it so well, hole stretched tight and still pulling them in. He was tempted to take him up on it, the tip of his thumb tracing at his stretched out rim. He could’ve done this for hours, too, worried it might be a trend, but he hadn’t tasted his cock yet and was more than a little interested.

And okay, Hanzo’s cock basically tasted like any other, a little bitter and salty and not like whiskey or maple syrup or anything magical. Jesse didn’t know why that was surprising. But he made this sound when Jesse’s lips closed around him, this shuddery, strangled little thing that did a real number on Jesse’s nerves. He dove his head down, grasped the base to steady it, and he went to town. Jesse didn’t have any illusions about being as good at this as Hanzo, but he was still pretty confident, felt the way Hanzo’s thigh shook against his cheek or his asshole fluttered around his fingers when Jesse sucked his cheeks in on a nice long pull. He crooked his fingers, searching as he pressed them up in short, easy little jabs. He found it, then, curled his fingers and massaged at the spongy little node, grunting happily at the taste of more precome in his mouth.

Hanzo gripped tight at the back of his neck, didn’t give him much wiggle room, but Jesse did his best, with quick shallow little bobs of his head and both hands working, fingers relentless against Hanzo’s prostate. Hanzo gasped suddenly, louder than before, said something that might’ve been Japanese. Either way it was almost endearing, and Jesse was definitely gonna have to try to make it happen again. A hot gush of come flooded his mouth, and Jesse swallowed it the best he could, felt a little slip out and down Hanzo’s drenched cock. Jesse slurped happily away at it, dug his fingers in a little and was rewarded with a jerk and another tiny burst of come.

When he was sure he wasn’t getting any more, he carefully pulled free, wiped his mouth on the back of his free hand. Hanzo wasn’t even looking at him, had his head tipped back toward the ceiling with his eyes closed, and Jesse felt how lax and heavy his thigh was now. He laughed a little, wondered if Hanzo was one of those guys who went all pliable after. He tested it, pushed Hanzo’s thigh up to get a good look at Jesse’s fingers still moving nice and slow inside of him. Still wasn’t a good angle, couldn’t get the full effect, but Hanzo drooped back on the bed and let him look anyway. Yeah, he’d have to do this again where he could see better.

His cock was thinking about getting interested again, but Hanzo didn’t seem to be in any shape to keep going. Jesse carefully pulled his fingers free, imagined he felt Hanzo’s hole grasping at him like it wanted him to stay. Hanzo was still all loose and sleepy. Jesse looked at him for a minute. He might not get a kiss right now, but he bet he could get a good cuddle in before Hanzo got all cold and bristly again.

He climbed into the bed, dragged Hanzo more fully onto it, and pulled him right up against his chest. It wasn’t the kinda thing he liked to admit readily, but there was nothing like a nice cuddle after good sex. It stroked his ego a little, too, knowing that he’d gotten this mean son of a bitch off so good that he didn’t bother to fight it, just sank down against Jesse, might’ve even nuzzled at him a little.

With the same certainty he’d known this was gonna happen, he knew it would again if he played his cards right. Hanzo sure seemed content right now, all pliant and sated against him. Jesse wanted to open him up again, maybe use his tongue next time. Before or after fucking him, he wasn’t picky. He bet anything Hanzo’d like it. He seemed real sensitive all over and didn’t have any hangups or shame at all so far, might be more than happy to ride Jesse’s face at least once.

Jesse had to stop himself from that train of thought. He was hard again, and he had an armful of a man as likely to murder him as fuck him, but who right now only seemed to wanna sleep. Jesse stared at the ceiling, let his sex addled brain wander to tamer things, and he dozed off for a bit.

He woke right back up to Hanzo shoving his arm off, a knee jerking against him. He grunted, tried to tighten his arm, and Hanzo went still, whole body tense. “You gonna run off on me now?” Jesse said.

“You’re hot,” Hanzo answered, and it wasn’t what Jesse expected. He laughed.

“Well, shucks. Thank you.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes at him, pried himself free. “I mean in the sweaty way,” he said, and Jesse grinned up at him anyway.

“If you stayed we could do it again in the mornin’.”

Hanzo hummed thoughtfully to himself. “You did promise me to, what was it? Fuck me until I stopped smiling?”

“Smirking, darlin’. There’s a difference.” Hanzo seemed unconvinced, rolled his eyes anyway, but he didn’t move off the bed, just sat there looking grumpy and tired and honestly kind of adorable, though Jesse thought he might get stabbed if he said that last part aloud. “C’mon, keep me warm,” he said, worming his way under the covers.

Hanzo gave him a look, considering. “And what will you give me in return?”

“I’m thinkin’ about wakin’ you up on my dick, but if you got somethin’ else in mind, I can be real flexible.” Hanzo snorted, but Jesse must’ve done something right again, because he slid under the covers with him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly more porn, but also some vague hints at characterization and an Actual Story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A PSA: hi this is fantasy please use protection IRL.
> 
> Also, please check updated tags to see if this is actually your jam.

Jesse woke up alone, and he figured he should’ve expected it. He’d thought he could cash in on his promise, but it seemed Hanzo’d had other plans. Still, things had gone pretty well. He’d get another shot, he was sure.

He didn’t register the sound of the shower until he opened the bathroom door to a billow of steam. Hanzo poked his head out. He stared at Jesse like he was the one intruding, like Hanzo hadn’t just invited himself into his shower without a word, and he closed the curtain again. Jesse brushed his teeth and wondered if he was supposed to join him. “You implied you’d wake before I did,” Hanzo said over the water.

Jesse gave himself a moment, then spat out a mouthful of toothpaste, still wondering about that shower. The stall was tiny though, tight even when it was just him alone. “You disappointed? I can still make it up to you.”

“How?” Hanzo prompted. Jesse could picture him smirking again. He didn’t sound real put out, anyway.

“Got a few ideas,” Jesse said. “Pretty good with my mouth.” He tried to leer suggestively, but the effect was lost on the shower curtain.

“Maybe,” Hanzo said, then dismissed him.

“’S my bathroom,” he said back.

“I am using it. I will be finished soon.”

Jesse snorted, then got a little stuck wondering if he’d been used just for the luxury of a bed bigger than a twin and a solo bathroom. He also wasn’t going to let Hanzo walk all over him that easily. He had to pee something fierce, so he used the toilet and made sure to flush, grinning to himself at the startled noise Hanzo made when the water changed. He left him after that though, wondering if he’d spoiled his chance over a moment of petty victory.

It felt weird to sit around naked, even in his own room, but he didn’t know what Hanzo was going to want after, and he’d need a shower when Hanzo was done anyway. Besides, Hanzo seemed to like looking, and it might up his chances. Hanzo emerged soon enough anyway, wearing nothing but a towel, and Jesse let out an appreciative whistle.

Hanzo smirked at him, stopped out of arm’s reach. He wasn’t getting dressed though, so Jesse figured it was a good sign. “You done usin’ all my hot water?” Jesse asked.

“For now,” Hanzo said, and as snooty as he sounded, it still gave Jesse a little thrill. _For now_ meant he was planning on a _later_.

He reached for him then. “C’mere.”

Hanzo didn’t, of course, just looked at him. “Are you going to do as you promised?”

Jesse’s dick gave a little twitch. “Anything you want, darlin’,” he said, then thought a beat and added, “long as you’re willin’ to kiss me.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow at that, seemed to think it was funny, but he came. Settled himself right onto Jesse’s lap, legs splayed to either side of him, only the towel between them. A cold drip of water spilled from Hanzo’s hair onto Jesse’s shoulder, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind. “Is that all?” he asked, and his hands slid into Jesse’s hair.

“Got a whole laundry list of shit I wanna do with you, but let’s start there,” he said. Hanzo jerked Jesse’s head back, leaned over him, and fit their mouths together. Jesse surged into it, pawed at his back and pulled him closer, opened up wide and curled his tongue into Hanzo’s mouth. Like everything else Hanzo had done so far, his kiss was smooth and controlled and more than a little dirty, lit up every one of Jesse’s nerves.

Hanzo released him, and Jesse panted a little, mouthed along his jaw and flicked his tongue across his earlobe, cold metal greeting him there. He could feel Hanzo’s length trapped between them, just cheap terrycloth separating them, and he slid his hand along Hanzo’s thigh, thumb tracing the edge of the towel. Hanzo tipped his head back, let Jesse suck and lick and bite at his neck for a moment before he gave a hard yank on Jesse’s hair, pulled his head back and looked down at him again.

“What else do you want?” he demanded.

“Wanna fuck you,” Jesse said, and his fingers crawled under the towel, pushed it farther up his thigh so he could drag his thumb along the soft skin. Hanzo seemed to expect more, and Jesse felt helpless to deny him. “Want you on your knees, beggin’ for it.”

“Crude,” Hanzo laughed his cold, cruel little laugh. “I won’t beg,” he said, but he didn’t seem mad about it. Jesse hadn’t figured he would get that one anyway, was still more than a little stunned to have him here at all. “Here is what I want.” He told him, and Jesse’s heart damn near skipped a beat. Hanzo might be a little bit of an asshole, but he was also filthy and the hottest guy Jesse’d ever gotten naked, and he might be Jesse’s soulmate too.

“I think I can manage,” Jesse said hoarsely when Hanzo was finished, and Hanzo laughed at him again, eyes glittering like he knew Jesse was dying for it no matter how cool he tried to play it. Hanzo gripped his jaw hard and kissed him again, stabbed his tongue into Jesse’s mouth like he was searching for something. Jesse tipped his head, pulled away a little and met his mouth again, a little less tongue this time, and slower and sweeter just to see what Hanzo would do. Hanzo still managed to surprise him; he melted right into it. Jesse could feel the moment it happened, felt the muscles of his back loosen as he pressed into Jesse, the fingers on his jaw and in his hair slackening, curling loosely until they were almost tender. Jesse’s traitorous heart tripped again.

Hanzo pulled away again, didn’t let Jesse follow, but he could still feel a little smug about the dazed look in Hanzo’s eyes. Wasn’t so mean now, was he? “Told ya I was good with my mouth,” he said, and Hanzo smirked at him, pressed his thumb against Jesse’s bottom lip.

“You are,” Hanzo said, and Jesse waited for the other half of it, some tease or insult or a way to turn the compliment backhanded, but it never came.

Of all the possible things Hanzo could have done to make him blush, it had to be that. “Huh. Knew you liked me,” Jesse said, and Hanzo naturally only rolled his eyes, pulled his thumb away to kiss him again.

Jesse jerked him closer, dragged him in until he felt their cocks bump together, the towel still between them. He’d had enough of that, got his hand tangled up in where it was knotted and yanked it off, pulled him closer still. Hanzo rolled his hips against him, dick sliding against his own and between their stomachs, and he broke off their kiss again, head tipped back. Jesse seized on the opportunity, mouthed his way down his neck and nipped at his collar bone. Hanzo jerked at his hair again, and Jesse figured he hadn’t liked that so much, so he ducked his head down and went for what he already knew he liked, scraped his teeth over his chest and lapped at his nipple again.

Hanzo let out a laugh that broke off on a sweet, breathy sound when Jesse got a hand wrapped around both their cocks. “You’re obsessed,” he said, and Jesse glanced up at him to see his cheeks starting to go pink.

“You would be too if you knew what you looked like,” Jesse said, and he punctuated it with a quick swipe of his tongue and a twist of his wrist that made Hanzo’s wet lips fall open another fraction.

Hanzo reached down between them, a grip like iron on his wrist, and damn it if that didn’t send a little thrill through him too. “This is not what I asked for.”

Jesse snorted but didn’t fight it, pried his hand free and tried to keep his hips still. “You complainin’?”

“No, but you will do what I said.”

Jesse felt his neck go hot. Jesus. Hanzo was so certain, and he wasn’t wrong. Jesse was gonna do it exactly like he was told. No sense in making it too easy, though. “Then get on the bed.” Hanzo raised a brow at him, and without even thinking, Jesse added, “Please.”

Hanzo went then, left Jesse with an empty lap and an eyeful of Hanzo’s compact, muscled body. He made himself comfortable, legs splayed and head down, pillowed on his arms. Jesse groaned at the sight of him, moved toward him without consciously willing his limbs, and Hanzo smirked at him over his tattooed shoulder. “Well?”

Jesse made a sound caught somewhere between want and another laugh. He reached for the lube and asked, “Anybody ever tell you how hot you are like that?”

“Never. You’re the first man who’s ever seen me naked.”

It was enough to make Jesse stop short, until the rest of his brain caught up. Hanzo burst into a laugh. He’d just wanted to see if he would blush for him, and Hanzo’d turned it right around on him. Without thinking, he gave his ass a little swat, and Hanzo did flush then, jerked his hips up to meet it, and Jesse felt his whole body go hot. It wasn’t what Hanzo’d told him to do, and Hanzo was glaring a little now, but Jesse filed it away for later. For now, he soothed away the sting with soft little pets, then used the same hand to pull the cheek to the side, got a good look at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, half distracted.

Hanzo grunted, still watched him over his shoulder. “Are you just going to stare?”

Trust Hanzo to ruin the moment and set Jesse’s skin on fire at the same time. He fumbled open the lube one-handed, then poured a generous amount right below the bump of Hanzo’s tailbone. Hanzo hissed at him, and Jesse grinned. “Sorry,” he said again, utterly insincere this time. He trailed a finger through it, rubbed it down the crease and back up. “It’ll warm up soon, darlin’.” He dipped the tip of his finger in and watched as it got pulled right in, eager and ready. He took his time, fed the dripping lube slowly inside, rubbed it carefully around the rim. He worked the one finger in as slow as he could; he didn’t get any resistance, but he liked watching, liked the way Hanzo sighed and pushed back in little increments. It was the most relaxed Jesse had seen him, and he let out these quiet, pleased little puffs of breath that were slowly ruining Jesse’s ability to think about anything else.

Eventually, one of the sounds outta him became his name. “McCree,” Hanzo said, and pushed back more insistently.

“Least you can do is use my first name while I got my fingers in you,” he said, crooked his finger down until Hanzo gave a little shudder.

“Fing _er_ , Jesse,” he breathed, and Jesse felt the thrill of victory. “Just one. You’re wasting my time.”

Jesse snorted, but he worked in a second finger right beside the first and watched them both sink in. “I been all over this green earth and yours is the finest ass I’ve ever seen. Maybe I wanna take some time.”

“You’ll get more later,” Hanzo said, “if you do your job correctly now.” Still talking like he owned the whole place, even with Jesse’s fingers buried up to the knuckle inside him. Maybe he wasn’t wrong if he could still be so coherent.

“Jesus,” Jesse muttered, already thinking about the later Hanzo mentioned, and he pulled his fingers back again, lined up a third and finally felt a little resistance. He massaged his fingers carefully back in, and Hanzo sighed and arched, tilted his hips high. “Jesus, look at you.”

Hanzo looked back at him again. Those eyes were a little mean again, pinned him right in place. His voice was still real cool and collected. “You are making a mess,” he said archly, in a tone that reminded Jesse that whatever he allowed, he _allowed_ it, had Jesse’s dick and maybe a little of his heart wrapped around one of his long, calloused fingers.

“Yeah?” Jesse asked, aiming for smug and falling a little short. “Gonna be a lot messier ‘fore I’m through with you.”

“I expect nothing less.” Hanzo arched again, and Jesse figured this one was for show, the way it sent things a little off the rails in his brain. “I am tired of waiting.”

He tipped Hanzo’s hips back, took another long, lingering look at the way his hole just swallowed down Jesse’s fingers, and he lined up his cock, eased it in real careful to watch the pink rim stretch around it. If he’d thought Hanzo was pretty on his fingers, it paled next to the way he stretched around Jesse’s cock. “Shit, you’re still tight,” Jesse panted. And it was true, but it also clutched at him, seemed to suck and pull him in until he was all the way in, one long, smooth glide. Jesse spread his cheeks wide again, looked down at where they were joined. He pet a thumb over Hanzo’s wet, stretched rim. Hanzo looked back at him impatiently, and Jesse eased back a little from that grasping, molten heat, rocked back in nice and gentle. “Don’t know how you’re still this tight, darlin’, but goddamn, you feel good.” He rocked again, this time less intentional, and Hanzo impatiently pushed his hips back to meet him.

Jesse went for it in earnest then, drew back enough to snap his hips in hard, set a punishing pace. Hanzo just took it, pushed back into it and urged him on. He still watched, stared at the way Hanzo stretched around him, and it drove him a little wild, made him fuck into him harder, bottom out with every thrust. Hanzo pushed up onto one hand, reached back to claw at Jesse’s side, drag him closer. He had to let go of Hanzo’s ass, but it was for the greater good. He grabbed one of Hanzo’s ankles and pulled, and holy shit, the sound Hanzo made. It was gonna follow Jesse to the grave.

His thighs burned, breath coming in great big heaves, but he kept right on until he started to get sloppy, pressed in with stuttery little thrusts, then one great big one that nearly knocked them both over. He braced himself with one hand on Hanzo’s back, sweaty palm skipping a little, and it felt like his soul fell out through his dick, pumping Hanzo right full of him.

Hanzo was real sweet about it, comparatively, let him have a minute or two to recover, Jesse’s hips still twitching in abortive little thrusts. When Jesse finally started to come to, Hanzo gave a little wiggle, and maybe Hanzo’d forgive him if he thought it was strangely endearing. “You still have a job to do, cowboy.”

Jesse huffed and grasped the base of his dick, carefully pulled himself free. A little dribble of come followed it out, and Jesse swept it up with his thumb, pressed it right back into him. “Yeah, I’m gettin’ there,” he said.

“Will it be this century?” Hanzo huffed, and Jesse just grinned, couldn’t help himself.

He pet that poor, abused hole again, then did what he’d promised, leaned in to lick at it. He tasted himself, mostly, and the weird sweet, plasticky lube flavor. He dove his tongue in, pressed his nose right up to Hanzo’s tailbone and licked him clean. Hanzo made a sweet little crooning sound that could’ve gotten him hard in an instant if he weren’t already spent. He pulled back a little to check his handiwork, ran a thumb over the red, puffy rim and gave it a nice, gentle kiss.

“This isn’t what I said,” Hanzo said, and if Jesse’s ears didn’t deceive him, he sounded awfully out of breath this time.

Jesse pulled back and took a long look at him again. “You’re right. You complainin’?”

“It isn’t what I told you,” Hanzo said, glaring. But his cheeks were a real nice shade of red, dark lashes a little wet.

“Who’m I to deny you?” he asked with a grin, pulled back to arrange himself on the bed. Hanzo looked like he moved a little gingerly, then Jesse didn’t see much at all. Hanzo straddled his face, sank right down and let Jesse get his tongue right back inside him. It was easier this way, let his neck relax and his hands roam, and if he felt like he might suffocate a little, it’d be a better death than anything else. Hanzo rode his face, reached back to hold Jesse in place by the hair, barely even let him breathe. Jesse just wriggled his tongue until it _hurt_ , got it as far up in him as he could until he was afraid he was gonna pull something, licked him clean with his hands on Hanzo’s perfect ass, palming at shaking, powerful thighs. Hanzo barely made a sound, but Jesse could feel the tremor in his body that said Hanzo was jerking on his cock, getting himself off to Jesse’s tongue coaxing the come from his wrecked body. It was absolutely better than any of the shit Jesse’d come up with on his own. He thought he might be in love.

Hanzo tensed up, gave this sexy little shudder, and his hole fluttered around Jesse’s tongue. Jesse felt the hot, wet splash as Hanzo painted his chest and belly with his come, then Hanzo went still, all loose and pliant again. Jesse dropped his head back into the mattress, gave his flank a little pat. Hanzo took his time moving, then dropped bonelessly to the bed, just a little outta reach. Jesse tried anyway, fingers grasping.

“Are you trying to make me cuddle again?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jesse lied. He heaved himself up onto his elbows, got a good look at Hanzo all tuckered out and sated. Hanzo graced him with a smile, a real, honest to god smile, and if it was a little wicked, well, that just made Jesse’s heart race more. He was truly, sincerely fucked.

* * *

They parted ways after a quick nap, and Jesse didn’t see him for the rest of the day. As luck would have it, Jesse got to usher in some new recruits today. Apparently earning Gabe’s trust meant babysitting and a lot of paperwork, this time.

Jesse daydreamed in a corner of the conference room, thinking about Hanzo. It was easy enough to ignore the dumb shit his sex brain came up with. Jesse’s body had declared itself in love with a sex partner at least once a year since he’d started having it, and Hanzo was still mean and _bossy_ enough that Jesse’d probably get tired of the attitude if not the sex. So he figured it was a little premature to start taking any of that seriously. But he still liked him, thorns and all, no doubt about it. He thought about that one kiss, especially, the one that made Hanzo go a little soft and almost sweet in his arms, and he rubbed a thumb absentmindedly over his lip, figured he was gonna have to try that again. 

The orientation ahead of him caught his attention, made him smirk a little. This was the official Overwatch bit; the rascals among them would get their Blackwatch orientation later in the rec room, learn all the real rules and the ones they could ignore. But this one here was especially fun: Jack Morrison, slumming it with a mix of bright-eyed idealists and shithead kids they dragged outta the gutter, giving an official lecture about fraternization. The short version was there wasn’t any, and that went double for new recruits.

Some of them rolled their eyes, but most seemed cowed enough by Jack’s hardass demeanor. Jesse wasn’t too worried by him, but everybody in the room knew this guy wasn’t just a desk jockey or cornfed poster boy. He was the real deal, hunted down gang members and terrorists and omnics alike. Jack was built like some kinda superhero and had more medals than you could shake a stick at. It might’ve even intimidated Jesse, if he hadn’t been around so long already, if he didn’t also know that Jack had plenty of firsthand experience with _fraternization_.

When Jesse was a little younger and a lot dumber, he’d tried to hold it over Gabe, use what he’d overheard for a few favors, but Gabe had made it real clear that the statute of limitations hadn’t yet run out for his crimes, and he wasn’t above adding attempted blackmail to Jesse’s record. He could still ship him back off to the States and federal prison any time. Jesse had kept his mouth shut and still did, never even brought it up in private except once, a whole six months after the incident, to say he hoped Gabe was happy. Gabe got a little nicer. So did Jack, though he was still a tightwad.

If Jack seemed put off giving his hypocrite lecture here in front of Jesse, he didn’t show it. Besides, Jack probably knew nobody in Blackwatch gave a shit about that part, was probably why he thought the rule didn’t apply to him either. Gabe’s rule wasn’t “no fraternization,” it was just “no drama.” Some folks interpreted it the same either way, but long as people could run a mission without having a hissy fit over a cheater or a bad breakup, Gabe didn’t care much what anybody did in their spare time. Worst case scenario, if he found out two agents were together, he’d stick them on missions to watch each other’s backs, do his best not to put them in position to split loyalties between a lover and other teammates. He’d once told Jesse a boring story about Greek soldiers that was probably meant to explain it. Jesse, unsurprisingly, had always liked Gabe’s rules better than Overwatch’s, even if he didn’t always listen to the man’s more literary leanings.

From fraternization they moved into a lecture about missions and downtime. This part was always kind of funny. Jack introduced some older man, some doctor, to give the sex ed spiel. Jesse’d hoped to see Angie today, but inevitably some of these idiots never listened to the lecture when she taught it. All they saw was a pretty blonde repeating words like “sex” and “penetration” and they got lost, didn’t even realize she could probably kill any of them with her brain and had a mean right hook besides. Jesse liked Angie better than most of official Overwatch. She was the intimidating one, just about Jesse’s age but with a brilliant future ahead, smarter than anybody he’d ever met, and real nice on top of everything. Sometimes she offered Jesse books, wanted him to take some of the college replacement courses Overwatch offered. Her biggest flaw was thinking Jesse was smart the way she was. Jesse’d probably punch any mouthy recruit she asked him to, but she’d never ask.

His eyes caught on one of the slides, some gruesome old photo of an advanced STI, and he grimaced, thought uncomfortably about fucking Hanzo raw and figured that conversation was gonna be a fun one. He made a bet with himself over whether asking about it or trying to kiss him again was gonna be the thing that got him stabbed.

* * *

 

Hanzo did actually show up again, a lot sooner than Jesse expected. Just after dinner and an evening one-on-one at the range with Gabe, Jesse opened the door to his room to find Hanzo kicked back on his bed in nothing but his underwear. He was plainly freshly showered again, and however many fantasies Jesse’d had of finding Hanzo in his room wearing next to nothing, they hadn’t involved Hanzo just sitting around looking bored. Hanzo looked up from his tablet, raised an eyebrow like Jesse was the one intruding again.

“Uh,” Jesse started, then shut the door quickly. “Not that I’m complainin’, but how the hell did you get in here?”

Hanzo went back to his tablet. “I watched you put in your code.” It was sort of embarrassingly obvious in hindsight. Not like Jesse’d been working to hide it. He’d been a little preoccupied just trying to get the damn thing open, didn’t bother to think Hanzo might have the presence of mind to  _watch_  him while he’d had a hand down Jesse’s pants and a mouth whispering filth into his ear.

Jesse thought about it, wondered if he should change the code now. He didn’t have much to hide, wasn’t even sure he minded, but he didn’t know what Hanzo’s game was, just showing up like this. “This mean you’re just usin’ me for my shower?”

“Obviously,” Hanzo said, not even looking at him. “I thought you weren’t complaining.” He was  _probably_  joking. It was hard to say for sure.

He looked at Hanzo and decided not to care. He wasn’t going to let it go that easily though, figured he should put up some kind of protest. “You usin’ me for the bed, too?”

“Indeed. I  _was_  enjoying having some privacy for once.” Hanzo finally looked up again then, raised that eyebrow at him.

“Cute.” Jesse grunted, deposited his bag on his desk chair. “You ain’t kickin’ me outta my own room.” There, he finally saw it. Hanzo’s mouth twitched, just barely, like he couldn’t quite help it. Jesse didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed to know he was just getting fucked with. He shook his head, toed off his boots. “I guess you can stay,” he said, doing his best to sound put out.

“Very generous, thank you.”

“I’m changin’ the code tomorrow.” He wasn’t sure if he’d really do it, but he was very interested to find out what Hanzo would do.

“No, you aren’t,” Hanzo said, and he was smirking at him then, totally certain. Jesse thought he should argue, but Hanzo had those mean eyes on him again, and he set the tablet carefully down on the bedside table. “Give me your belt.” He thrust out his hand, waiting, like Jesse wouldn’t bother to say no.

“What for?”

“So I can tie you to the bed for that threat,” Hanzo said, and Jesse definitely didn’t bother to say no, couldn’t even muster up a token protest about the obvious bruises it was gonna leave, because Hanzo kissed him again and Jesse didn’t even have to ask. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you ever need me to tag anything, I am more than happy to do so.
> 
> If you wanna come be a huge dork with me on Tumblr, you can find me @ [robo-cryptid](https://robo-cryptid.tumblr.com).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse sticks his foot in his mouth, and there’s weirdly more plot than porn?

He never did get around to changing the door code. Jesse was reasonably sure it wasn’t a normal thing to do, but he was also reasonably sure _he_ wasn’t normal, and it’s not like he’d even considered kicking Hanzo out, the first time or any other. Any time he thought about changing the code, his lizard brain helpfully supplied several ways Hanzo might yet surprise him in his room, and a few ways he already had. His particular favorite was right after he’d let the whole hat fantasy slip; Hanzo had greeted him with it on and proved once again that Jesse’s imagination had nothing on reality. 

Mostly, though, Hanzo just camped out in there, seemed to have meant what he said about wanting privacy. Jesse regularly got the strange suspicion he wasn’t being used so much as _paid_. He didn’t hate the arrangement, but it was weird as shit to spend this much time with someone and feel like it was all some kinda transaction.

So the next time he caught Hanzo in his bed, Jesse climbed right in and stuck his head on Hanzo’s thigh, just curled up next to him and didn’t try to get too handsy. Hanzo didn’t even look away from his tablet, but he dropped one hand down to pet Jesse’s hair like it was natural, something they did all the time. It wasn’t, and Jesse hadn’t minded until just then, when he realized how nice it felt to have Hanzo’s fingers in his hair like that, instead of tugging or pulling. He liked those plenty, but this was an entirely different kinda good, just calm and pleasant and _right_.

“Comfortable?” Hanzo asked him.

“Mmhmm,” Jesse answered. He wondered how to ask, ran a hand along Hanzo’s shin. “Been spendin’ an awful lotta time here lately.”

Hanzo’s hand paused in his hair, and Jesse grunted. “Is that a problem?” Hanzo didn’t  _sound_  unsure, but it wasn’t like him to bother asking permission or anything like it. Not like he ever really had to, given Jesse’s frankly embarrassing inability to say no.

Still, maybe someone ought to tell him. “It was a little creepy the first time,” he said.

“Creepy,” Hanzo repeated with a smirk, not even looking at him. “It was a... ‘prank’ is the wrong word. I wanted to know what you would do. I assumed you would kick me out if it were a problem. You didn’t.” He shrugged, and Jesse flushed a little thinking back on it. “And now?”

“Still not a problem,” Jesse said, probably too quickly. He cleared his throat. “Just wonderin’ if it’s really that bad in the shared dorms.”

Hanzo’s hand started back up in his hair, and Jesse closed his eyes. “You try sharing a room with my brother and eight strange men. Genji made me take the bottom bunk, too.”

Jesse snorted. “Didn’t think anybody could  _make_  you do anything.” Hanzo rewarded him with a light scrape of his nails over his scalp, but he didn’t answer. “So you just keep comin’ back to escape the crowd?” Jesse pressed.

Hanzo’s hand paused again, then he used his grip in Jesse’s hair to turn Jesse’s face upward. “Is there something else you’re trying to ask?”

Jesse looked at him then, weighing it. “What’s got you comin’ back to see me? Is it just the room?”

Hanzo stared down at him, face impossible to read. If anything, he seemed confused, which was itself kinda confusing. “I like being here,” he said, in a tone that said Jesse was supposed to already know that.

“Okay,” Jesse said. “I like you bein’ here too.” Hanzo snorted softly, then went back to his tablet, seemingly content to let Jesse just lie there and run fingers along his legs, wherever he could reach. He didn’t usually get the time to touch him without any intent, unless he’d sweet-talked him into some post-sex cuddling. Jesse took the opportunity to admire the way Hanzo’s skin felt, the way it looked, fair under his brown fingers. He glanced at Hanzo’s tablet, but it didn’t look like anything especially interesting, just a newsfeed, all in Japanese.

Eventually, Hanzo seemed to either get bored with the cuddling or take Jesse’s roaming hands for another kind of interest. He set the tablet aside, and his fingers grew more insistent in Jesse’s hair, tugged and guided until Jesse got the hint and rolled a little, dragged rough fingers up the thin skin of Hanzo’s inner thigh and followed them with his mouth.

Hanzo spread his legs, and Jesse shouldered his way between them, shoved his nose into the crease where Hanzo’s thigh met his hip, and he palmed at him through his underwear. Jesse inhaled and realized he even smelled good, just like he always did, and it was a little unfair that Jesse hadn’t once found something unattractive about him, even after weeks of hard, sweaty practices together and regularly seeing him naked. He had a few scars, a constellation of tiny moles on his back and a single one over his hip that Jesse could see now, but even those were nice, like some artist had put a lot of thought into placing them, just like his tattoos. They mostly seemed to exist to remind Jesse how flawless the rest of his skin was. 

Jesse took out his frustration by sinking his teeth into the thin skin of Hanzo’s thigh, but Hanzo only breathed a low, stuttery sigh that went straight to Jesse’s dick. There was something almost unfair about that, too. There wasn’t a whole lot Hanzo wouldn’t let him do, and Jesse had yet to find anything Hanzo could do to him that he didn’t like. Not like he was  _trying_  to make it less fun, but it twisted him up if he thought too hard about what it might mean. So instead of thinking, he traced the thickest visible vein with his tongue, sucked a bruise into Hanzo’s thigh. Hanzo didn’t like marks where anybody could see them, and Jesse never knew if it was privacy or just vanity, but Hanzo didn’t mind this kind. From the shaky breaths he was letting out, Jesse thought he might even like it a whole lot.

Jesse mouthed his way back up, licked at the salty wet patch slowly forming at the front of Hanzo’s boxer briefs. He stopped worrying and just breathed, rubbed his nose and open mouth along the full length of Hanzo’s cock until the fabric was soaked through with precome and spit. Hanzo was breathing harder above him; he still didn’t make much noise unless he was demanding something specific, but Jesse was learning what cues to listen for.

He risked a glance up as he worked his palm over Hanzo’s dick. Hanzo looked back, dark eyes glittering. The flush in his cheeks was almost adorable, which was a word Jesse’d still never use out loud; he liked what they had going on, mostly, when he didn’t let his head or heart get too deep into it, and he wasn’t gonna risk it  _or_  his neck by calling Hanzo adorable. But he thought it, privately, and the secret made him smirk, which had its own fun effect on the way Hanzo looked at him. Jesse watched the flash of heat in his eyes, watched the way the flush crept down his neck and chest, and he figured he had about thirty seconds left before Hanzo started getting pushy.

He backed off a little, peeled the waistband down. As he dragged the underwear all off, it occurred to him it was the pair Hanzo wore most often, the red ones Jesse’d told him made his ass look especially good, and he tried not to think too hard about that, either. He tossed them aside, but Hanzo must have noticed his second of hesitation.

“Take off your clothes,” Hanzo said, in that frustratingly composed voice, and Jesse felt his whole body snap to attention. He twisted his own shirt off, thinking  _one day_  he’d get Hanzo’s voice to  _break_ , push right through all that control and figure out what hid behind it. He caught a glimpse of Hanzo with his hand on his cock, mean eyes on Jesse’s body as Jesse worked off his own belt, and he figured he’d be okay if today was not that day.

Naked, he crawled right back to Hanzo, nestled up between his legs again, dragged kisses and calloused fingertips over his thighs again. He kissed the mole on Hanzo’s hip, and he looked up at him, but it was a bad idea. Hanzo just watched, inscrutable as ever, then touched Jesse’s cheek a little too softly for Jesse’s liking. But it was to guide him back down, and that much Jesse could handle.

Hanzo gripped his own cock, and Jesse tongued at the head, lapped up the taste of him and let Hanzo feed his dick into Jesse’s mouth. Hanzo let free one of those quiet moans that tended to short circuit Jesse’s brain. He let it slide farther in, bumping over his soft palate and back, back until he felt his throat try to constrict, until his wet lips brushed Hanzo’s knuckles.

He pressed a hand over Hanzo’s stomach, felt the flex and twitch of the muscles there, the coarse, thin line of hair below his navel. Jesse relaxed his jaw, working his mouth eagerly up and down; he was drooling a little, probably slurping again, but he was rewarded with those quiet sighs, with the twitch of Hanzo’s abdomen and the tightening of his thighs at Jesse’s shoulders, with thick little bursts of salty flavor across his tongue. He trailed his other fingers down, tracing delicately over his balls to then press a knuckle behind them.

Hanzo didn’t take long; he had told Jesse he was good at this, and Jesse’d had time to learn what he liked. He pressed his lips tight and pulled, felt the muscles beneath his hand jump, and he dove back down, took his dick as far as his throat and Hanzo’s hand would allow. Hanzo didn’t make a sound at all, only jerked his hips up into it and came down Jesse’s throat.

When he was finished, Hanzo shoved him back, rolled him down onto the mattress, and jerked him off with the sort of ruthless efficiency he applied to everything else. Jesse came with Hanzo’s teeth in his neck and his heart in his throat.

After, Hanzo played with his hair again, this time propped up on his elbow to look right at him. It was always like that; he half ignored Jesse or watched him closely, no in-between. It was almost nice this time, though. Hanzo always looked a little less mean after sex, even if he was still kinda intense.

“You can change the code, if you like,” he said, and Jesse laughed a little.

“Oh, can I?”

“If it bothers you.”

Hanzo was still watching him, and Jesse couldn’t figure out for the life of him what he wanted. “You could just  _ask_ ,” he said.

Hanzo gave him one of those light, cool laughs. “I’m not in the habit of asking.”

“No shit,” Jesse grumbled, but he gave himself away with a grin. The post-orgasm high and those fingers in his hair made it hard to keep up any kind of front. One day it was bound to get him in trouble. Even now he could feel the little flutter in his stomach, and all Hanzo’d had to do was laugh. “Always get everything you want, dontcha?”

“Mostly,” Hanzo admitted.

Jesse laughed a little, missed the too serious crinkle between Hanzo’s brows until it was too late. “What? Your daddy didn’t buy you a pony once upon a time?”

Hanzo’s face went far more serious then, lips pressed thin in a frown, and his hand stopped in Jesse’s hair. Jesse felt his cheeks go warm, knew he’d stepped in it somehow. He thought about the briefs he’d read before they’d ambushed Hanzo’s clan, thought about the fact that Jesse was the one responsible for putting most of Hanzo’s family in custody. Hanzo didn’t really bring any of it up ever, and Genji hadn’t been much more forthcoming than his brother. But it made Jesse wonder, briefly, if Hanzo wasn’t just used to being catered to but was instead lost, transitioning from the lap of luxury to this place.

“Sorry,” Jesse said in the face of Hanzo’s silence. “Your dad’s prob’ly a sore subject, huh?”

Hanzo only kept staring, and Jesse got the distinct feeling he’d disappointed him somehow. “My father is not a good man,” Hanzo said dismissively. Jesse didn’t know what to say to that. “Is this what you think of me? That I am… spoiled?”

Jesse laughed a little at that, though he knew he might be on thin ice. He tried to shrug it off. “I like spoilin’ you,” he admitted, gave Hanzo his most charming smile.

“That isn’t what I meant.” That stare got somehow more intense, a little mean again.

“Baby, you inherited more money at birth than I’ll see in a lifetime, and that’s just what’s legal and documented. You said yourself you get whatever you want.” At Hanzo’s scowl, Jesse reached up, pulled the hand from his hair to press a kiss to Hanzo’s knuckles. “It’s not an insult, just how it is.”

“I have none of that now,” Hanzo said, and he was still frowning. It was as close to a pout as Jesse might expect to see on him. Jesse just stared until Hanzo explained how their assets had been frozen, were tied up as long as the legal proceedings went on, and given Hanzo and Genji’s allegations and the hoops Gabe had had to jump through to keep them out of prison, they might never see any of it. Jesse didn’t have much head for business or legal talk, but he could hear the point of it: Hanzo was as broke as anybody else in Blackwatch, moreso than some. Jesse himself probably had more stashed away, since he mostly only spent money on booze or cigarettes.

“I’m sorry ‘bout all that,” Jesse said, mustering up as much sincerity as he could. He’d had to have this talk with Genji too, and he figured now was as good a time as any. “But you know growin’ up like you did… A lotta people here didn’t have it so good.”

Hanzo snorted, started to pull his hand away. “Yes, you all have your stories. Genji and I have suffered nothing.”

“Hey now,” Jesse said, grabbed for his hand again and pulled it to his chest. “I’m not makin’ those assumptions. Just sayin’ the money sets y’all apart as much as the whole… ninjas and dragons shit.”

“Ninja,” Hanzo said.

“What?

“The plural of ninja is ninja.”

“That is… not what we were discussin’.” Jesse stared at him, mystified.

“You wished to call attention to my relative advantages, so I’m sharing my education with you. You speak as if you have none.”

“Oh my  _God_.” Jesse had no idea if Hanzo was fucking with him, and he scrubbed a hand over his face to buy himself a moment. But when he was finished, Hanzo was still just staring at him like he was waiting for something. “You’re right. Didn’t even finish high school,” Jesse said.

Hanzo’s brow furrowed for the briefest moment, almost too quick to catch. “I have a business degree,” he said. “My father insisted.”

Jesse thought about teasing him again, but he realized Hanzo was trying to actually  _talk_  to him. This conversation was already longer than most they’d had outside of sex, and it hadn’t veered back that direction even once. Jesse stomped down hard on the way his heart tried to make something of it. “Genji said your family was…” he trailed off, trying to find some way to put it gently. Jesse stared at Hanzo until he finally came up with “intense” again.

Hanzo stared back at him, and Jesse thought about how nice his eyes were when they weren’t glittering meanly at him. “You want to know why I betrayed them.” It was another statement, not a question.

“You don’t have to—”

“They ordered me to kill my brother.”

Jesse could only stare. He’d thought, from everything he knew before, that Hanzo had only seen the writing on the wall, made a good deal out of a bad situation when he figured out Blackwatch was keeping tabs. “Why?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Genji didn’t like the clan business, never really participated in his duties. He preferred to live his own life. They told me to rein him in or kill him. I found you, instead. It seemed much more efficient.” Jesse almost laughed, but Hanzo looked much too sober for that. “You thought I sold out my family to save my own skin. Correct?”

“Uh, correct.” Jesse swallowed. He’d thought Hanzo had taken the same deal he had, maybe under a little less duress. It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d been looking for a way out already. It made Jesse feel self-conscious; they’d been equals before, or almost, long as Hanzo was kind of an asshole and Jesse could feel good about the work he’d done in Blackwatch. But it turned out Hanzo’s reasons for joining were far better than his.

“I am not a good person,” Hanzo said, tone matter of fact. Jesse wondered if he could read minds; he really hoped he couldn’t. “I would have gone on with the clan if not for that order. I did not mind the business.”

“Did you kill all those people in your file?”

“Yes,” Hanzo said, then smirked a little. “And most of those attributed to Genji.”

Jesse tried to laugh again, but the sound got stuck somewhere. It was a good reminder of what Hanzo was capable of, no matter that he’d once done right by his brother. They all had pasts here, and it was good to remember this guy could kill him, easily, and had the damn code to get in his room. It should’ve put a damper on all the shit rattling around inside Jesse, but somehow it didn’t. “Why’re you sharin’ all this?”

Hanzo gave him a look that was very serious. “So you understand what my loyalty looks like before you ask for it.” Jesse couldn’t be sure if it was a threat or something else, but Hanzo kissed him then, made it easy to forget until well into the next morning.

* * *

Genji knew, probably. The first thing he’d ever said to Jesse was flirting — to get something out of him, sure, but flirting anyway — and it’s not like he’d really stopped right away. Jesse hadn’t thought much of it. Genji flirted with a lotta people, seemed it was just in his nature same way it was in Jesse’s, until that day he just... stopped. Jesse’d thought then that maybe it was because they were getting to be friends, thought maybe Genji’d dropped the act and given up a little more of his real self, but in hindsight it coincided pretty close with the day Hanzo had met Jesse on the way to his room and told him in no uncertain terms he wanted to fuck him. Genji was kind of a shit, but he was an okay brother. He definitely knew.

Gabe probably didn’t know. Jesse sure as shit didn’t know how to tell him, or if it was anything worth telling. He wasn’t sure Gabe would _want_ to know. But Jesse kinda wanted to talk about it with someone, and he couldn’t be sure Genji’d be any help. He might, if he took mercy on Jesse, but the chances seemed higher that Genji would threaten him or mock him or tell him he’d rather not think about his brother’s sex life, thanks. Seemed like too much of a wildcard. He thought about calling up Angie, but that made it seem too serious. He wasn’t sure it _was_ serious, just that it was something more than sex.

Really, really good sex. The kind that made Jesse’s brain take a vacation, or addled it so much that it shit out dumb words like _soulmate_ or _destiny_ or, one especially delirious time, _babies_ , which had been hands down the least welcome thought Jesse’d ever had with someone’s fingers in his ass. Worse, though, was that he wasn’t even sure Hanzo liked him as a person, though that last talk had seemed to maybe indicate something like it.

Either way, he didn’t figure it was a real smart idea to go on thinking those words about somebody who could kill him, especially if that somebody might only think Jesse was fun to fuck and had a big bed and wasn’t the worst company. Especially if that somebody was kind of mean and bossy and impossible to figure out. Somebody who was more than vocal about getting exactly what he wanted but who never said a word about what this was or what he wanted it to be, just showed up in Jesse’s bedroom and twisted him in knots.

Jesse groaned to himself, scrubbed his hands through his hair, and he marched his ass to Gabe’s office. When Gabe called out that it was open, he shut the door behind him and took a seat, sprawled out on one of those cushy chairs, and he brooded until Gabe finally bothered to address him. “What do you want, kid?”

Jesse fiddled with his shirt. “How’d you know he was worth all the trouble?” He asked it real quiet and side-eyed the closed door. It’d been reinforced since that time he’d overheard, but he didn’t wanna piss Gabe off.

“Who?”

“You know who.” He met Gabe’s eye then, tried not to fidget again.

“You angling for romantic advice?” Gabe laughed at him then, and Jesse felt his cheeks get hot.

He scowled back. “I don’t need advice. Prob’ly not. I just wanna know how you knew.”

“Little above your pay grade, isn’t it?” Whatever Gabe saw on his face then, he took pity on Jesse. He sighed and flicked a little button that made the door latch tight and the pressure in the room change. He dug out an ashtray for Jesse, and he told him. Gabe wasn’t real romantic about it, didn’t talk about butterflies or his heart skipping a beat, just described Jack in a way Jesse’d never understand, fresh from the farm and a little naïve but with a spine made of steel. They’d gone through the gauntlet together, came out the other side of the supersoldier program feeling like gods among men.

Then they’d been shipped off to war, and Gabe had found himself with Jack always at his back, thought they were comrades in arms and all that shit until Gabe took a bullet for him and Jack had gone all soft and blubbery. Gabe didn’t add a lot of detail, but Jesse tried to picture it anyway, stone jawed Jack Morrison crying over Gabe in a medic’s tent until Gabe gave in and kissed him. It was real revealing, all told, but Gabe and Jack had this story that was half war movie, half discount romance novel, all gunfire and blood and stolen moments under the stars together. They’d come into Overwatch already together, too. It wasn’t at all like what he had going on. He said as much, and Gabe snorted. “Yeah, I didn’t figure.”

Jesse stared at the floor, thought he needed to polish his boots again before Gabe got on his ass. “You gonna ask who it is?”

“Not my business, kid.” Jesse grunted, tried to sink down in the chair so he could feel less _weird_ about it. Gabe actually looked a little concerned. “That bad, huh?” Gabe sighed. “You actually want some advice?”

Jesse hesitated, then said, “Guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

Gabe snorted at him again. “In general, I’d tell you to get over your shit and use your words. If you don’t know, ask, and if you got something to say, say it plainly. But I’ve watched you sniffing after Shimada. If it’s him, I’m telling you to stay on your guard.”

Jesse jerked his head up at that, not at all sure what he was feeling or even supposed to feel. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gabe sighed a little louder, and Jesse realized he had practically confessed to Gabe already. “Means he’s bad news and you know it. Just do whatever,” Gabe gestured and made a face that said he’d really rather not know, “to get it outta your system, and move on with your life.”

The chat with Gabe had helped in some ways, made shit a lot worse in others. Gabe had this big, romantic story, however plain he told it, and it didn’t tell Jesse much about how it should go in the beginning, how to tell if it even _was_ a beginning. Plus maybe Jesse’d fucked up the whole beginning bit anyway by hopping into bed first without thinking about the rest. For the first time, he realized maybe having some experience with sex and with sweet talking people wasn’t actually gonna translate well to trying to date or... whatever it was he wanted. _Asking for loyalty_ was how Hanzo put it, and who even said shit like that? And why’d he just assume Jesse’d ask? 

Gabe clearly didn’t approve of any of it, but Jesse didn’t know if that meant his advice was better or worse because of it. Maybe he _should_ talk to Angie, but he thought about Hanzo, with blood on his hands and a mean streak a mile wide, and he figured Angie wouldn’t approve, either. Besides, in all the time Jesse’d known her, he had never really seen her date, wasn’t sure her advice would really come from experience. He thought about Khemiri, but they didn’t ever get real personal. He was starting to worry Genji really was gonna be his best bet.

The decision was made for him, kinda, when Angie called him up like the psychic he thought she was, invited herself down to dinner. They should catch up, she said, but she didn’t have time to get off base. He suggested the Overwatch mess hall instead, feeling antsy about it, but she insisted they’d be interrupted too much. It was probably true. Folks liked Angie, and he knew a fair few of them would want to check in on him if he showed his face. He let her have her way, and he hoped this was one of those nights where Genji and Hanzo squirreled dinner off to their dorm.

Angie stood out among the Blackwatch folks, not just because she had a sort of clean aura about her, but because she wore her bright blue Overwatch shirt. At least she’d taken off the lab coat, but she still stuck out in the sea of Blackwatch gear and everybody’s casual wear. They sat together in a corner, Angie practically glowing as she talked about starting her research with Dr. O’Deorain, and as boring as it all sounded, Jesse couldn’t help but feel a little of her excitement.

A tray slid to the table, and Genji sidled in right next to her, Hanzo moving a little slower to Jesse’s side. This was exactly what Jesse hadn’t wanted, and he felt a little spike of panic alongside his usual reaction to Hanzo.

Angie seemed surprised, but Jesse introduced them all with quick little gestures. “Hanzo, Genji, Angie.” He could feel Hanzo’s mean eyes on him, felt him bristling like he was mad, and Jesse couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he’d done.

“Angela,” she corrected.

“Perfectly named,” Genji said with a smile he’d seen a hundred times, but now it made Jesse kinda want to punch him. Angie’d heard the line before, he knew, had personally watched her brush it off with an eye roll a dozen times, but this time she went pink right to her ears. Genji definitely noticed too, chin resting on his hand as he turned the full force of that smile on her. _Jesus_ , Jesse thought, scowling. He didn’t even think he was her type, didn’t think Angie really _had_ a type.

Jesse’s thigh jumped on its own as he felt Hanzo sink his fingers into it, nails trying their damnedest to bite through the denim. “Jesse didn’t tell us he was bringing a guest,” he said coolly.

“It’s true,” Genji added. “He’s been hiding you from us. _So_ rude, Jesse.” Genji _tsk_ ed at him and Angie outright giggled.

“More like hidin’ her from _you_ ,” Jesse said, pointed a fork straight at Genji so Hanzo didn’t get the wrong idea. “Angie’s real busy, got better things to do than put up with your mischief.”

“If I didn’t like a little mischief, we wouldn’t be friends, Jesse,” she said with a little gleam in her eye. Genji beamed the way he did when he successfully cheated at poker.

“How long have you known Jesse?” Genji asked, and for all that he was oozing as much charm as he could, he seemed genuinely curious.

“ _Gott_ , almost six years now. We met when the organization was just starting out, and we were much younger than everyone else, so we grew close.” Genji hummed, actively listened. Hanzo seemed interested too.

“I bet you have a lot of stories. Tell us something funny.”

She gave Genji a sideways little smile. “He used to threaten all the boys who showed an interest in me.” She raised an eyebrow at him, and Genji laughed, not at all put off.

“Jesse couldn’t beat me up if he tried. I know. He’s tried.” Genji grinned then, all teeth. Angie seemed less impressed by this. She’d never much cared for violence or men who postured. Jesse figured Genji was in for a real treat when Angie found out about his past, especially. Jesse’d be sure to tell her if this kept up. She was smart, knew what Blackwatch was about, though they did sometimes get a few volunteers or regular Overwatch recruits with too many screws loose. She probably already suspected. Lord, Jesse hoped that wasn’t part of the appeal. He liked to think he was a bad influence on her, but hopefully not _that_ bad.

Hanzo eventually removed his hand from Jesse’s thigh, determined to eat, but he still had that prickly tension just coming off him in waves. Jesse had no idea what to do about it right now, tried to leave it be, but he didn’t think Hanzo was making a fine first impression on Angie. It bothered him a little, and bothered him more when he let himself think on why.

Finally, Hanzo asked her, nice and polite, “What do you do here?” Angie told him about her work in medical research, how they were using Overwatch resources to fund advancements in cellular regrowth and nanobiology. It was the sort of thing Jesse found boring, but Hanzo seemed to take a genuine interest and Genji hung off her every word. Then Hanzo asked, “How do you reconcile that with Overwatch’s violence?” Angie’s gaze sharpened on him.

“Jesus, Hanzo,” Jesse said with a forced laugh. “Little heavy for supper, ain’t it?”

“I thought we were making conversation. Surely Angela doesn’t mind something more stimulating than Genji’s pitiful flirting.” He shot a glance at his brother, who looked ready to hit him. Jesse didn’t like where this was going; he’d seen them get into it before. It never turned physical, but they both said a lot of ugly things, the kinda shit that tended to linger well after people made amends.

“I don’t mind,” Angie said after a moment. She held Hanzo’s gaze steady, and she told him, with total honesty, about her ambivalence. It wasn’t any real surprise to Jesse, nothing he hadn’t heard snatches of before, but it turned into some philosophical shit with Hanzo, some exploration of where to draw the line between ideological purity and taking action, however flawed. It was a little highbrow for Jesse’s tastes, but the way Hanzo talked to her made something warm curl up in his gut. He wondered if he was looking at Hanzo with the same dopey look Genji had for Angie.

“What do you think, Jesse?” Hanzo asked him, and for once, right out in public, he didn’t have that mean look, seemed like he actually wanted to know.

Jesse laughed, scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I dunno, y’all got a little intellectual for me there. Not sure I really followed.”

“Oh, Jesse,” Angie said, that tone that let him know he was gonna get a lecture. Hanzo was looking at him in some way he really didn’t understand, but his eyes were real pretty like that, almost soft and dark like coffee or good chocolate, hot and sweet and a little bitter. Jesse thought the comparison suited him. Angie didn’t say anything for a second, then she cleared her throat. Jesse wondered if he’d gotten caught staring, if Hanzo had caught him at it too, but she went on like nothing happened. “You know you’d follow along better if you took those classes I told you about.”

“Not real big on formal education,” he said, and for the first time he felt something like shame about it, with Hanzo staring him down, smart as a fucking whip apparently and able to hold down a conversation with Angie, of all people, engage her on her level.

Angie leaned in toward Hanzo like it was a conspiracy. “Jesse’s just stupid enough to have convinced himself he’s actually stupid.” She seemed to really believe it, but she made it into a joke, probably to save Jesse’s pride, give him a way out if he needed it. “Maybe you can persuade him where I have failed,” she said, and Jesse froze.

Hanzo only laughed, the cool one he used when he was getting exactly what he wanted, and Jesse wondered when he’d started to think that was cute too, instead of just mean-spirited. “We will see.” Jesse could do nothing but flush, violently, over what seemed like nothing at all. Angie smiled like she’d won a bet.

After she left, Genji sighed, looked dreamy. “I’m in love,” he declared.

“Absolutely not,” Jesse said, glaring. It was hard to hold up, thinking about the warm little curl in his belly, but he gave it his best.

“Ooh, is this where I get the speech? You don’t want to go there.” Genji looked smug, gestured at his brother before pointing at Jesse. “You don’t have a leg to stand on.”

“It ain’t the same,” Jesse insisted, and Hanzo tensed up again beside him.

“And why’s that?” Genji asked, and Jesse really should’ve looked closer at the hard little glitter in his eye, the way his mouth twisted a little nastily, before he answered.

“She’s too good for the likes of you,” he said, without thinking about any of it at all. Hanzo got up without a word, just left him both there.

“Well _played_ , cowboy,” Genji said, admiring his own fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moral of this story: don't tell Genji what he can and can't do, or he'll give you enough rope to hang yourself.
> 
> Edit: Big thanks to [Sylvraenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvraenn/profile) for some tidy advice for clearing up the end scene a bit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: talking, and more sex, and Gabe acting like a dad. Also, awkward sex, because every OTP needs more of that.

The worst part about really stepping in it with Hanzo, apart from the pain and the fear that at least one ninja was planning his imminent death, was that he wasn’t entirely sure what he did wrong. Hanzo was always sort of prickly and confusing, but Jesse didn’t think Hanzo had ever been actually  _mad_ at him. 

He also had no idea how or where to look for him. Hanzo was real good at disappearing when he felt like it, could fuck off to just about anywhere on base without being seen. Jesse tried Hanzo’s dorm, but none of the guys in there had seen him _or_ Genji. He moped about in his own room, spent a good while staring at the ceiling, even tried jerking off to pass the time, but all his best material was Hanzo now, and wasn’t that some bullshit?

He was rescued from his own thoughts by the sound of the door opening; it made nerves and want both spike. He did his best to remain casual. “Well, howdy,” he tried.

Hanzo glared at him, nearly elbowed him as he walked right past him to sit on the bed. Jesse got over it, because he was here. “We need to talk,” Hanzo said.

It was hard to think of anything when Hanzo was in his room like this, like his presence here had trained Jesse’s dick to take over. “You sure, darlin’? Don’t think talkin’s my strong suit.”

Hanzo looked at Jesse like he was something stuck to his shoe. “I’m sure.”

Jesse sighed and gave it up. He knew Hanzo was right but he’d been angling for another quick grope in case this went the way he was thinking. “Yeah, alright,” he said, showed Hanzo his hands like that’d convince him Jesse could keep them to himself.

“You didn’t tell Angela about… us.”

Jesse sucked in a breath, and a laugh escaped him. “That what this is about? I didn’t know what you wanted.”

Hanzo huffed, stared him down. “And what did you want?”

Jesse laughed again. “Baby, if you let me this whole base would know. I’d tell strangers on the street. But I thought you liked your privacy.” 

Hanzo nodded, but his look didn’t have any pity, and he didn’t offer any kind of answer. “Fine.” It clearly wasn’t all, though. “You said she’s too good for Genji.” He didn’t elaborate.

“Figured that was bothering you. You mad that I gave your brother shit?”

Hanzo gave him that mean little glare again, and Jesse sighed, thought about how he’d briefly gotten to see those eyes go all sweet and soft. “No.”

“Then darlin’ I gotta admit I’m real confused.”

Hanzo sneered, and Jesse wondered if he was supposed to just _know_ somehow. Hanzo asked him, “Do you think you’re better than me?”

Jesse felt like he’d been hit. “Lord, no.” He dared to move closer, sat down next to him on the bed. “Is that what you thought I meant?”

He made another face that Jesse took to mean _yes_. “That, or that _none_ of us are good enough to be around your friend.” Jesse didn’t say anything, but he thought maybe that would be a little hurtful, if Hanzo were right. He just hadn’t known he _could_ hurt Hanzo’s feelings. “My brother and I are the same.”

“I beg to differ,” Jesse tried to joke, but Hanzo wouldn’t have it.

“We share the same crimes. If anything, you know I have done worse.” Hanzo seemed to deflate a little. 

“It wasn’t about _you_ at all. I don’t think that way about you,” Jesse said, still reeling a little.

“You said I was creepy, and spoiled, and you didn’t want me to talk to your friend, and...” Hanzo cut off with a huff, and Jesse figured his face was just _like_ that, because his voice wasn’t really all that angry.

“And then I said that,” Jesse finished for him, scrubbed a hand over his face. He felt like an idiot. “I didn’t think you cared what I thought.”

Hanzo, weirdly enough, actually blushed. Jesse wasn’t entirely sure how to react to it. He’d only ever seen him blush when he was real turned on, not like this, just in some conversation. “I do. I did not realize it bothered me so until today.”

Jesse pushed a breath out hard, wondered if this was the part where he was supposed to tell Hanzo all the _nice_ things he thought about him instead. “I— Listen, I’m real bad at this. I don’t know a whole lot about how to...” He gestured between them.

“I am not very experienced, either,” Hanzo said, and Jesse stifled a badly timed laugh. Hanzo looked annoyed again. “I wasn’t referring to _sex_.”

“Me either. Not a lotta opportunities for more between the gang and Blackwatch.” 

“Indeed,” Hanzo said, and it occurred to Jesse that they did actually have things in common, past all the stupid shit.

“I don’t think I’m better than you, though. I took the same deal you did, for shittier reasons.” Hanzo made a skeptical sound like he didn’t entirely believe it.

“What  _did_ you mean, then?”

Jesse eyed him carefully, wondering if insulting Genji was gonna piss him off again. “I meant your brother’s a scoundrel. Angie deserves better than to get dropped in a week when somethin’ new and shiny catches his eye.” 

“Is this what you meant when you said it was different, then?” Hanzo asked, and Jesse felt his face get hot, felt his stomach drop. “You don’t expect something new to catch _your_ eye?” Jesse had to work not to squirm under the intensity of his stare.

“I really don’t,” he breathed out, felt his hands go a little cold and shaky. This was probably the opposite of what Gabe had meant by  _get it outta your system_ , but Jesse couldn’t find it in him to care, because Hanzo hadn’t run off yet. Hanzo only nodded thoughtfully. “I, uh, kinda thought you had that figured out already.”

Hanzo smirked a little. “So did I,” he said, and Jesse flushed a bit darker. “But you’ve been confusing.”

“ _I'm_ confusing?” Jesse laughed again, couldn’t help himself, but Hanzo’s embarrassed silence — and it was easy enough to see that it _was_ embarrassed, now that Jesse was learning how to look — said this was definitely not the time to pursue that one. “Okay.” Gabe had told him to get it out of his system, and he wasn’t doing a great job at that, but Gabe’s other advice, the part about using his words, could be useful. “I like you. Um, a lot.” Hanzo’s smirk shifted a little closer to the real thing. “I’m not takin’ back the ‘spoiled’ thing, but I _like_ that about you, and you’re crazy smart, and you don’t seem to give a shit what anybody thinks, uh, except me, apparently.” Jesse laughed a little self-consciously, still sorta stunned by that. “And I dunno what this says about me, but you’re kinda scary, like you could absolutely kick my ass, and I like that too.”

Hanzo laughed too then, and Jesse’s stomach did a flip. It did it again when Hanzo moved closer, scooted toward him on the bed and put his hands in Jesse’s hair. “I like you too,” he said, with an almost hilarious amount of determination. “You are _very_ funny, and competent, and... and sweet, when you aren’t putting your foot in your mouth. And you _are_ a good person.” Hanzo’s whole face was red, and Jesse knew his was too, and Jesse really, really wanted to kiss him.

Instead, he said, “We should prob’ly talk more.” Despite his words, he found himself inching toward Hanzo, got caught up staring at his eyes again like the dopey idiot he was. It wasn’t quite so embarrassing this time, though.

”Yes,” Hanzo said in a low voice, the one that made Jesse’s stomach clench. “Later, though.”

”Oh, thank God,” Jesse breathed, and Hanzo dragged him in by the hair to fit their mouths together. It probably should’ve been different somehow, but this part at least was the same as always. Jesse got his hands under Hanzo’s shirt, shucked it up to get one hand on his waist while Jesse mouthed his way down Hanzo’s throat. Hanzo squirmed, fought off Jesse’s hands and mouth enough to yank his shirt off, but Jesse got too handsy with him to let him stay away, dragged him right back so he could suck wet kisses along his clavicle. Getting naked took a hell of a lot longer than usual, because Jesse wouldn’t take his hands off Hanzo long enough to let him get either of their clothes off.

They did manage to accomplish it eventually, and Hanzo shoved him down on his back and climbed on top, settled his weight down onto him and bracketed Jesse’s waist between his thickly muscled thighs. As sometimes happened, Jesse found himself a little surprised by how heavy he was; he was sort of dense, like he should be bigger than Jesse but somehow had it all packed down into this body instead. 

Jesse took the moment to appreciate the view. Hanzo didn’t seem to mind; he liked Jesse looking, long as he didn’t feel impatient. He ran his hands up the thighs he’d been admiring, brushed a thumb over the mole on Hanzo’s hip. “I like this,” he said, and Hanzo followed his gaze down. “It’s cute,” he tried, and Hanzo definitely pulled a face at the word, but he didn’t try to murder Jesse or anything. 

“Cute,” Hanzo repeated, looking a little skeptical.

“And kinda sexy,” Jesse said. His other thumb slid up the inside of Hanzo’s thigh, rubbed over the bruise he’d left with his mouth, and Hanzo’s whole body responded. Jesse watched the tremor in his abs, the way his hips inched forward and his eyes went heavy-lidded. It wouldn’t be the first time Jesse thought Hanzo could kill him with all his subtle reactions, but this time he could appreciate it without all the stupid shit crowding into his head. 

“Proud of yourself?” Hanzo asked, voice a little tight. Jesse’s thumb still stroked the bruise, and Hanzo’s hands dragged up Jesse’s stomach to his chest, curled into the hair there.

“Like knowin’ it’s there, the shit nobody else gets to see,” Jesse answered, and Hanzo smirked at him again, right before he leaned down to kiss him once more, a hand tangling in Jesse’s hair. He was pushier about it this time, mouth demanding. Jesse tipped his chin up to meet him just as insistent, lips parting before Hanzo even got there, but it was otherwise all he could do to hold on, every ounce of energy in his body suddenly directed only to his mouth and to the short roll of his hips when Hanzo’s ass brushed against his dick.

Hanzo kissed him like he was determined to suck all the air from Jesse’s body, and Jesse felt light-headed enough he might’ve been succeeding at it. It was like being eaten alive, Hanzo’s lips parting and pulling in a frenzy, tongue swiping in to collect one of Jesse’s increasingly messy moans, his head tilted to devour Jesse one way before he adjusted and did it again. Jesse tried his damnedest to find any kind of rhythm, to give as good as he got, but he was left a little helpless by the way Hanzo’s hands roamed and the way his cock slid wetly over Jesse’s belly.

Jesse gasped, but he would never confess to the other pitiful sound that left him when Hanzo’s mouth pulled away. He followed him up, got onto his elbows to try to keep their lips together, and Hanzo only laughed. He pushed back against Jesse’s cock, got a hand wrapped around it and pressed it right between his cheeks. Jesse could feel the wet slide up the crease, felt it bump against Hanzo’s tailbone, and he dropped his head back, eyes squeezed shut.

He wanted to kiss him again, but this was good too. More than good. He thought he should _do_ something, though, and he made himself open his eyes again. Hanzo was staring back, eyes dark and glittering sharply, and Jesse realized they weren’t mean at all, more like _focused_. “Oh,” he said, wondering how many times he’d missed that, thinking Hanzo was just kinda mean.

Hanzo slowed himself, and Jesse had to bite back a frustrated groan. “What?”

“Don’t stop, it’s nothin’.” At Hanzo’s skeptical face, he said, “Just realizin’ again that I’m an idiot.” 

Hanzo did stop though, completely, took his hand off Jesse’s dick and shifted forward a little. Jesse cursed to himself. “Don’t do that,” Hanzo said, looked at him in that bossy way he had. 

“Do what?”

Hanzo grabbed him by the jaw, had that intense look on his face again, and Jesse pushed into it, up onto his hands. “I don’t like when you insult yourself.” 

“Oh,” Jesse said again, probably a little dumbly, but now he couldn’t deflect or say that out loud. It sounded weirdly like something Angie would say, and he wasn’t really in the mood to think about her or anybody but Hanzo.

Hanzo looked thoughtful for a second, searching his face with a little wrinkle between his brows. “I would not waste my time with someone who is beneath me. You insult _me_ when you do that.”

“Okay,” Jesse said, mostly to appease him. At least _that_ wasn’t something Angie’d say. That was pure, distilled Hanzo, and it made Jesse laugh a little. He shifted a little until he was seated upright, Hanzo in his lap. “This mean you’re gonna quit insultin’ me too?”

Hanzo’s lip twitched, another little smirk. “Not a chance,” he said, and he stroked a finger over Jesse’s brow, pushed a lock of his hair behind his ear. “But I will kill anyone else who does.”

Jesse didn’t have much of a chance to think about whether Hanzo was serious or not, whether Jesse found that disturbing or not, because Hanzo kissed him again, the soft press of his mouth a strange counterpoint to the hard, calloused grip on Jesse’s jaw. Jesse urged Hanzo’s lips to part, curled his tongue in slow and sweet until Hanzo’s grip went slack and so did the rest of his body.

Jesse trailed a hand down his spine, felt the way each muscle rippled and went looser as they kissed. He could have done it forever, he thought, just kissed him until Hanzo went totally limp, if Hanzo hadn’t started up the slow roll of his hips again, reminded Jesse of the tightness sitting low in his gut. He certainly noticed when Hanzo’s mouth left his, but his brain didn’t follow everything that was happening until Hanzo was back in his lap, mouth hungrier now and his chest pressed against Jesse’s.

Hanzo had one hand in Jesse’s hair and the other back behind himself, and Jesse’s brain finally caught up again. He dragged the hand on Hanzo’s spine lower, pressed him closer at the dip of it, then farther down, where his fingers slipped through the lube Hanzo was already working into himself. He slid one finger into him right alongside Hanzo’s, and Hanzo arched against him, then dragged his wet mouth along Jesse’s jaw. “Jesus,” Jesse muttered. “Let me...” 

He pet at Hanzo’s thigh, slipped a second finger in. If he’d thought Hanzo was going to stop just because Jesse was helping, he was dead wrong. He could feel Hanzo’s knuckle bumping against both of his, and he felt the bunch and stretch of Hanzo’s thigh under his hand as he pushed back against their fingers and forward against Jesse’s stomach. Hanzo’s breath rushed out hot over Jesse’s neck and ear, followed by the slow tickle over his tongue along the shell of it. 

“You’re killin’ me,” Jesse grit out as he felt Hanzo start to push another finger into the hot, crowded space. Hanzo laughed breathlessly and bit his earlobe, made Jesse’s hips stutter up, cock dragging along the swell of his ass. Even that was almost too much now, and Jesse bucked again, tried to get any kind of traction at all. 

Hanzo finally showed him some mercy, slipped his fingers free to smear lube down Jesse’s dick, which jumped like it was ready to do tricks for him at this point. Jesse started to pull his fingers free until Hanzo panted into his neck, “Leave them,” before holding him steady and sinking down onto him. It shattered any remaining illusion Jesse might’ve had about Hanzo getting any less filthy now that feelings were involved, and he barely lasted long enough to even do it. 

He came inside Hanzo so hard he almost sobbed, and if Hanzo was disappointed in how fast he’d gone, he didn’t show it, just stripped his own dick and came all over both of them. He made Jesse lick Hanzo’s fingers clean while Jesse was still twitching in the aftermath. 

When it was over though, and Jesse slipped under the sheets, Hanzo followed right along, didn’t have to be coaxed or sweet-talked. If anything, he was pretty insistent about it, pressed his body against Jesse’s and flung a leg and an arm over him, palm pressed warm over Jesse’s slowing heartbeat.

* * *

Jesse tried not to be smug when Overwatch asked for their help, but it was hard to keep to himself. Sometimes playing strictly by the rules got nothing done, and Blackwatch had to step in. His smugness was only balanced a little by the realization he was gonna have to suffer a meeting with Jack at the helm.

Gabe’s scowl drove him into the meeting room, and Jesse settled into a seat at the table, as close to the door as he could get. Hanzo slid in right beside him. Genji saw Angie across the way and beamed before he took a seat; Jesse groaned internally when her cheeks went pink and she looked down at the folder in front of her. Jack seemed to notice all of it and looked disapprovingly in their direction.

It seemed like normal Jack bullshit, looking down at them from up on his high horse, but for once he wasn’t even looking at Jesse. He had his eyes just to Jesse’s right, watching Hanzo suspiciously. It struck Jesse as a little unfair, given that they were about to ask him to do some shit none of _them_ would risk.

Jack dragged Gabe back out the door and spoke in hushed tones, but they weren’t hushed enough for Jesse, right there by the door, which meant they sure as shit weren’t hushed enough for Hanzo or Genji. “Where’s Khemiri?” Jack asked Gabe.

Jesse could hear Gabe’s voice even clearer. Gabe didn’t give a shit. “You only needed one sniper. You got one.”

Hanzo’s face gave nothing away, but Jesse could feel the prickly anger coming off him in waves. It wasn’t normal for Jack to pull this shit where others could hear, so it had to have gotten up his ass more than usual. Jesse thought about Hanzo’s file, and Hanzo’s admission of all the people he’d killed. What Jack actually said aloud, though, was, “You’re giving me green agents.”

Gabe snorted. “I’m  _loaning_  you my best agents. You wanna risk more of yours, I’m sure McCree’d be happy to have a few days off.”

“This isn’t about McCree. It’s about those two  _yakuza_   _assassins_  you want at my people’s backs.”

“No, it’s  _about_  you questioning my judgment again.”

They bickered for a few minutes, but Jesse tuned them out, mind latching onto the men next to him instead. Genji didn’t seem to care much, too busy trying to catch Angie’s eye again, but Hanzo was radiating tension. Jesse wondered when he’d started feeling protective, and he stretched his arm around the back of Hanzo’s chair, let it rest there. Hanzo glanced at him briefly, but he seemed to relax a little.

Jack came back in, looking like a storm cloud, and he started short at the sight. Jesse just winked.

The briefing was boring, but it went fine as long as everyone remembered to studiously ignore the stick up Jack’s ass or the way Gabe loomed in the corner behind him, unwilling to even sit at the table. Plenty of folks seemed intrigued by Jesse’s arm around Hanzo’s chair, but Hanzo took it in stride, relaxed by small increments until he was just his usual sort of stiff, not vibrating with tension any more.

Travel meant Jesse got to sit on a plane and watch Genji flirt with Angie, curiously ignoring everyone else. Normally he’d spare at least a few charming words for anyone else, but his attention to Angie was laser focused. He still cheated her at cards, but it made her laugh almost like she did for Jesse, with the frequent addition of flushed cheeks.

Jesse should have been uncomfortable with it, but it was hard to bother when Hanzo was right there, curled up under his arm. He hadn’t said anything about it, but he didn’t shrug Jesse off either, just let him pull him close and rub his thumb in slow circles at Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo, meanwhile, seemed absorbed by his tablet, back into his newsfeeds, but he balanced himself with a hand on Jesse’s knee and didn’t seem put off by Jack or anyone else looking.

They bunked up at the safe house, Jesse and Hanzo and Genji stuck in a room with a bunch of Overwatch agents. Jesse knew a few of them, and some of them seemed to think he and Hanzo were kinda cute. The rest gave all three of them the usual stink-eye. Jesse didn’t care much, because when the lights went out, Hanzo wormed his way under Jesse’s blankets and went right to sleep. He woke in the morning with Hanzo still curled against him, and he didn’t mind the battle of wills with his deeply inconvenient erection because Hanzo was right there, snuggled up to Jesse where anybody could see.

Recon went fine. The whole mission went fine. They didn’t lose a soul, and more than a few of the Overwatch agents gave the three of them due credit. They’d noticed the arrows and the blade wounds and the bullet holes in the enemies that never touched them. They were smart enough to figure that there were plenty more they never _had_ to see either, and they were a little warmer on the way home.

Still, it was a week-long mission, and nice as holding Hanzo had been, he had also started squirming and petting at Jesse in ways that were an absolute torment. It wasn’t the worst sort of teasing, not with Genji so close, but it wasn’t especially nice of him either. And Jesse’d gotten to see him fight for real too, see just how scary he really was in the field and that little grin he wore, now with the full knowledge that he smiled the same way sometimes during sex.

They didn’t even make it back to Jesse’s room first. It seemed Hanzo’d had the same problem, and maybe he even held a bit of a grudge, because he dragged Jesse into an empty room up in Overwatch HQ proper and dropped his bags right there. It was one of the little rooms they used for presentations and sometimes the short courses they taught. He thought Hanzo had chosen it at random, but as Hanzo manhandled him toward the desk, Jesse realized he recognized it as  _Jack’s_.

He laughed, and Hanzo glanced up at him, mildly offended, busy as he was working Jesse’s belt open. “I must be doing something wrong if you’re distracted,” he said.

Jesse laughed again, let Hanzo shove him up against the desk and peel his shirt off of him, follow up with his teeth on Jesse’s chest. “Not at all, darlin’.” He ducked his head to kiss Hanzo quickly, just a brush of his mouth, then followed the push of Hanzo’s hands, turned around and braced himself against the desk while Hanzo shoved Jesse’s jeans down around his thighs. “You know where we are?”

He felt Hanzo’s fingers, cold and wet, press up against him, and he pushed back against the intrusion, made himself relax. “Of course,” Hanzo said on his own laugh. “We’re here for revenge.” Jesse wanted to laugh again, but his body gave a shudder, overwhelmed as it was by exhaustion and the brief mixed signals of being penetrated. He bent over and breathed through it; it wasn’t his preference usually, especially not when he knew what Hanzo felt like wrapped around him, but he was man enough to admit by this point that  _Hanzo_  was his preference and everything else came secondary. Besides, Hanzo dragged a hand down his stomach and tugged loosely at his cock, gave Jesse something else to focus on.

Still, he felt a little ungainly, even as he twitched and shuddered and pushed back against the increasingly pleasant burn of Hanzo’s fingers. His legs felt weak as Hanzo got his cock lined up, stretched him wider. Jesse heaved out a few breaths, felt himself arch and tighten his grip on the desk, and Hanzo pressed a palm flat to the small of his back, sank deeper until Jesse squirmed again. It was  _awkward_ , a word he had never once thought to use to describe sex with Hanzo, and Jesse was reasonably sure it was his own fault somehow.

Hanzo pulled out again with his face buried between Jesse’s shoulders, and he shook a little like he was laughing. “This is not. You are too…  _leggy_ ,” Hanzo said, and Jesse huffed out a laugh of his own.

The heat of Hanzo’s body disappeared for a moment, and then he was dragging Jesse’s pants and underwear all the way down, yanking at Jesse’s boots. Jesse did his best to help, but he was half tangled in his clothes already. “You sayin’ it ain’t me, just my anatomy?”

Hanzo snorted, then shoved at him again until Jesse turned around. “It may also be you,” he said, and he pushed Jesse back again, made him brace himself on the edge of the desk. Hanzo hitched a hand under Jesse’s thigh and got it up around his waist, his other hand working more lube up into him, filling up the strange sense of emptiness he’d left when he pulled out.

Jesse let his head fall back a little, trusted Hanzo to keep him up if he needed it. “Can’t all be natural born bottoms like you,” he teased, and Hanzo gave a cruel little twist of his wrist that made Jesse gasp, dug his fingers and curled until Jesse saw sparks.

“What was that?” Hanzo asked, and Jesse could only laugh breathlessly, his whole body quaking at the thrust of Hanzo’s fingers. Then Hanzo slid his cock home again, hot and hard inside him, and Jesse cursed and spasmed, fingers white-knuckled on the edge of the desk. Hanzo pushed him down onto his elbows, and it felt better this way, sent sensation like a live wire straight through him that only built with every thrust. Hanzo buried his nose in the hollow of Jesse’s throat, hiked his leg up a little higher, and set a brutal, relentless pace that left Jesse sucking in shaky breaths, choking down as much air as he could get, until his limbs threatened to give out entirely.

* * *

They cleaned up and Jesse fought down a bubble of exhausted, ecstatic laughter. He thought about leaving the dirty tissues on the desk, but he figured they’d already committed enough crimes against the furniture already, and he dropped them in the trash. Hanzo looked unbearably smug as he watched Jesse get dressed, and Jesse couldn’t tell if it was about the sex or the revenge. If it was about the sex, Jesse couldn’t be bothered to mind, got a kick out of thinking about Jack lecturing new recruits come Monday morning.

He ignored the protests of his body and picked up his bag, but he couldn’t ignore Gabe standing on the other side of the door when it opened. He had a cigar dangling from the side of his mouth, half smoked like he’d just been _waiting_ the whole time, which Jesse found disturbing on more than a few levels. He looked them both up and down, clearly a little disgusted, and Jesse stood frozen with the kind of dumb, reflexive grin Gabe liked to call cheeky but was more like terrified. Hanzo, perverse son of a bitch that he was, just laughed, trying and failing to hide it behind his hand.

“Athena, you can resume monitoring C45 now,” Gabe said, then turned on his heel, plainly expecting them to follow. Jesse was sure his entire body went red. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Hanzo, but he could feel him walking too close, shaking with the effort to restrain his laughter. Jesse wouldn’t put it past him to have thought of the security footage before he ever pushed Jesse in there. Times like these, he was reminded that Hanzo shared blood with Genji.

Gabe escorted them all the way through the building, and if they got a few strange looks, it was probably mostly about Gabe smoking indoors. Nobody said anything though, let them be. Jesse couldn’t see his face, but he knew what kinda stare Gabe could give to scare off just about anybody. Only Jack and Ana seemed totally immune to it, and neither of them were around.

They took the elevator down to Blackwatch HQ, and Jesse caught Hanzo’s eye. He seemed to have grown more sober by now, but he didn’t seem especially  _bothered_  by any of it. He was back to that unreadable mask, but he didn’t look half as tense as Jesse felt.

Gabe finally acknowledged them again outside his office, looked at both of them like he was just plain exhausted. “Shimada, get to bed.  _Your_  bed. You’ll get your talk in the morning. McCree, get your ass inside.” Hanzo seemed annoyed by it, stood his ground even when Gabe leveled one of his _looks_ at him. Maybe Hanzo shared Jack and Ana’s immunity, because he just straightened his shoulders, looked at Gabe like he should be the one groveling. Jesse wanted to shrink away, was so  _deeply_ uninterested in finding out how this power play worked out. Gabe was not remotely impressed. “You want a formal reprimand and the docked pay that goes with it? Go the fuck to bed, Shimada.”

Hanzo still stood there, but curiously, his eyes flicked to Jesse, who just nodded dumbly at him. Hanzo’s nostrils flared, but he did as he was told, turned on his heel without a word. Gabe watched him go, shook his head. “Dunno what the fuck you were thinking,” he muttered, then ushered Jesse into his office.

Jesse dropped his duffel bag and slumped into one of the chairs, just watching Gabe warily. Gabe shut the door and leaned on his desk, and Jesse squirmed under the scrutiny. He wasn’t sure exactly what kinda trouble he was in, but Gabe wordlessly shoved an ashtray at him, so at least he was allowed to smoke. Jesse fumbled out a cigarette.

“What kinda lecture’m I in for, boss?”

Gabe grunted. “I thought I cured you of this bullshit.”

“Uh, which bullshit, exactly?” Jesse tried to picture what was in Gabe’s head, and he figured there might be a whole list, the kind that went on for pages.

“I don’t really mean the shitty pranks or whatever the _hell_ that was. You’re too old to pull dumb stunts like that, but you know that.” Gabe thrust out a hand, and Jesse handed him a cigarette, uncomfortably reminded of Hanzo’s way of “asking” for things. He wondered if he’d gotten a complex somewhere along the way.

“What  _do_  you mean, then?”

“I mean whatever you think you’re doing with Shimada.”

Jesse looked down at his boots then, thinking. Looked like he wasn’t in for a commander lecture so much as a mentor lecture, and he figured that was somehow worse. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the problem?”

“You’re getting distracted. I told you to get it outta your system, not to sit around making googly eyes while you’re supposed to be working. I _definitely_ didn’t tell you to let him get you into trouble.” Gabe stabbed a finger at him, ashes dropping from his cigarette. “I didn’t drag your ass outta the desert so you could waste your time getting yanked around by some yakuza scum.”

Jesse’s eyes snapped back up to Gabe, and Gabe almost looked surprised by whatever he saw on Jesse’s face, least until it shuttered again, back to Gabe’s stiff glare. “I’m not gettin’ ‘yanked around’. If you thought he was scum, why’d you defend him to Jack?”

“I defended my tactical choices. That’s not the same and you know it.” Jesse glowered at him. “That guy’s been trained from birth to manipulate and murder people. It makes him a damn good agent, but that ain’t boyfriend material.”

“He’s no different from me,” Jesse snapped.

“He’s a hell of a lot different than you. I picked you up when you were  _seventeen_ —”

“Sixteen.”

“Seventeen. Don’t make me have to rework all your files. We picked him up three months ago, a full grown adult with a record that makes yours look like child’s play.” Jesse huffed, sank further into his seat. “ _Three_   _months_ , kid, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger.”

“Maybe I’m fine with that,” Jesse said stubbornly.

“Yeah, I bet you are. Bet he’s fine with that, too.” Gabe stubbed out his cigarette, seemed to take Jesse’s silence for some kind of answer to a question he hadn’t had to ask. “Listen, it was almost cute watching you fall all over yourself before, but it’s not cute now. You’re gonna get yourself in trouble I can’t protect you from.”

Jesse rolled his eyes, especially over that _protecting_ bit. “I can keep it to my room, then.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jesse huffed, grit his teeth. “You don’t know—”

“Oh, I don’t know him like you do?” Gabe finished for him, and Jesse felt his cheeks burn. “Let me guess: you’ve never met anybody like him before?” Jesse’s face went hotter. “Bet you haven’t. Only criminals you ever met were real lowlifes. You haven’t spent any time around his type: all glossy on the surface, and the rules always magically seem to bend for them. Name one time you didn’t give him exactly what he wanted.”

Jesse chewed his lip, set his jaw stubbornly. “He’s not like that,” he said, even while he thought about the way Hanzo told him how it was gonna be, just  _appeared_  in his room whenever he felt like it, had Jesse’s dick groomed to respond like that fucking scientist Angie told him about, the one with the drooling dogs.

“You forget you only  _met him_ because he manipulated you.” Gabe eyed him and went a little softer. “You got a future here, Jesse. Don’t ruin it ’cause you let him drag you back down and promise you it’s up.” Jesse looked at Gabe again, frustrated. “Break it off.”

“Is that an order,  _sir_?” he asked.

“Nah, just good advice.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse deals with his doubts.
> 
> There are too many feelings for what was HONESTLY supposed to be just porn.
> 
> \---
> 
> Updated June 3, 2018: [BloomingCnidarians](https://bloomingcnidarians.tumblr.com) drew some [delightful (and surprisingly SFW) art for this chapter](http://bloomingcnidarians.tumblr.com/post/174520193033/he-wondered-if-they-could-have-every-serious-chat), and I LOVE.

Jesse stalked back to his room, replaying all the things he should’ve said to Gabe. So much for Gabe’s faith in rehabilitation through Blackwatch. He’d already made up his mind about Hanzo, and Jesse wasn’t sure if he was angrier about that or about the way it wormed in and made him  _doubt_. Hanzo had called him sweet, had got mad at him for talking down on himself, had cuddled up to him where everyone on the mission could see. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing a man would do if he didn’t care at all, but Gabe was  _Gabe_. He knew a hell of a lot more than Jesse, had seen more of the world and the people in it, and as much as Jesse hated to admit it, he gave a shit what Gabe thought.

He opened the door to his room, and unsurprisingly, Hanzo was already there, having ignored Gabe’s order simply because he could. Or because he really was using Jesse for the room. Jesse dropped his bag down, and Hanzo watched him, seemed to sense Jesse’s unease. “I can go,” Hanzo offered, and Jesse heard Gabe’s voice telling him to be cautious of these rare moments of surrender, that they could be just as much a strategy as anything else. He rubbed a hand over his face.

“No,” Jesse said anyway, and he dragged off his shirt on the way to the bathroom, determined to scrub off the confusion. He got the water good and hot while he stripped down, then climbed right in.

Hanzo twitched the curtain aside, looked him up and down. “May I?” he asked, and Jesse just nodded, didn’t trust his voice. He watched Hanzo peel out of his clothes and wondered if he’d  _waited_  for Jesse. He pressed into the tiny space, nearly elbowed Jesse getting in, but he didn’t ask anything further.

They washed up together, didn’t really do much of anything, but Hanzo seemed content to just share the space, no matter how much elbowing was involved. Hanzo watched him, a funny smile on his face, and Jesse wondered if Gabe would’ve said anything he said if he could see Hanzo like this. Gabe probably would’ve thought it was just more manipulation though, a well-timed show of sweet domesticity right as Hanzo’d been accused of jerking Jesse around. It’s not like Hanzo couldn’t figure out Gabe’s concerns on his own; he was the smart one, the one who’d known what strings to pull before he even knew Jesse by name.

Jesse let Hanzo get out first, shut his eyes and ducked his head back under the spray for a moment. He almost wished Hanzo weren’t here, just this once, so he’d have time to think without feeling so claustrophobic. Hanzo finally reached back into the shower, shut the water off for him, and dragged him wordlessly back out. He dried off sluggishly, with Hanzo pawing at him, but he was so damn tired, just climbed into bed still a little damp, and Hanzo followed him there too, pressed right up against him and brushed wet hair off his forehead. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” he finally said, and his eyes searched Jesse’s face, looked unbelievably soft. Jesse thought about the first time he’d seen them, how he’d thought he was wearing makeup, thought the thick, dark lashes had to be a lie somehow. They were just as thick now though, fresh out of the shower. They cast a fine shadow over Hanzo’s eyes as he waited for Jesse to say something.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, darlin’,” he said, and he leaned over to hit the light, pulled him a little closer after. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” He didn’t sleep right away though; instead he lay there thinking about how unfair it was for Hanzo to go on looking like that even while Jesse was doubting. He was almost asleep when he realized Hanzo’d actually  _asked him_ about joining him in the shower.

* * *

Hanzo was gone in the morning, but that wasn’t much of a surprise, given Gabe’s command. He flinched a little to think about how that was gonna go, wondered if Gabe was gonna warn Hanzo off like some overbearing dad.

Jesse dragged himself out of bed and down to the mess hall, got some breakfast that he ate alone until Khemiri and Ford showed up to bug him. He waved at them and kept shoveling eggs into his mouth.

“Have you seen Genji?” Khemiri asked.

“What for?” Jesse wondered if he should warn her Genji had already found a new infatuation.

Khemiri snorted. “Punk owes me money.”

Jesse laughed a little. It was a nice reminder; Khemiri could take care of herself. “Haven’t seen him around this mornin’. I’ll send him your way if I do.”

Khemiri nodded, took a sip of her own coffee. “Where’s your boyfriend this morning?” Ford smirked at him, and Jesse just sighed.

“Does the whole damn base know?”

Ford laughed at him. “Shimada’s not slept in our dorm in weeks. It wasn’t hard to figure out he had to be sleeping in one of the singles, and it’s not as if he talks to anyone but you and his brother.”

Jesse looked as unimpressed as he could, but it was hard to sustain when Khemiri laughed, elbowed Ford in the side, and said, “If only  _you_  had a nice, big  _bed_  to entice him with, right?” Ford leered at Jesse a little, and it didn’t take a genius to figure he’d take an invitation to join them both. Jesse rolled his eyes, but Ford was being a pretty good sport, all things considered, so Jesse didn’t bother to call him on it. “But yes, McCree, everybody knows now. That’s why Genji owes me money.”

Jesse snorted. “You had a bet I was sleepin’ with Hanzo, and his own  _brother_ lost it?” It seemed ridiculous; Genji  _knew_.

Khemiri laughed again. “No. We bet on when it would be common knowledge. Genji had a surprising amount of faith in your discretion.”

Jesse only put on an exaggerated sigh, let Khemiri rib him about it and did his best not to share any real details. Any other time, it would’ve been funny. He could still hear Gabe nagging him, telling him that everybody knowing would only make it more complicated, would probably eventually violate Gabe’s “no drama” rule.

* * *

He went back to his room, had nothing better to do. Day after a mission, he wasn’t scheduled for anything. Still no Hanzo, but Jesse tried not to let it bother him. He tried to let himself get lost in a movie, but it didn’t stop Gabe’s fucking voice in his head. When it turned out he couldn’t follow the movie for all his thoughts, he stared at the ceiling and argued with the voice instead. There was some shit he’d never have the nerve to explain to Gabe’s face, but he could think it. He thought about Hanzo greeting him wearing the hat, about him parading around in Jesse’s favorite of his underwear, about the way almost every single stupid, shitty fantasy he’d voiced had been fulfilled in some way. Gabe probably wouldn’t want to know any of that, and if he did he probably would’ve found a way to think of it as  _evidence_ for all his suspicions, but Jesse wasn’t so sure. He thought about Hanzo’s admission that he was the same as Jesse, knew fuckall about how to do any of this past the sex, and Jesse wondered if he’d been trying all along.

Halfway through the film, Hanzo eventually showed up. Jesse sat up quick in his bed, and Hanzo stared at him for a minute from the door, wearing a look Jesse’d never seen before. Then his face screwed up, determined, and he stalked right over to the bed, climbed into it and grabbed Jesse by the shirt to kiss him.

Jesse laughed, leaned right into it, forgot all of Gabe’s warnings the second Hanzo’s mouth touched his. Hanzo shoved him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, angled their mouths together. His lips were firm and pushy, pressed hard against Jesse’s like he had something to prove. It wasn’t a great kiss by Jesse’s recently elevated standards, but it was a _good_ one, still managed to leave Jesse half-hard and breathless, gasping after Hanzo’s mouth as he pulled away.

“I have to do everything,” Hanzo said, leaving Jesse stumped.

“Not sure what that means, but I can name more’n a few times I done all the work.” He could; he thought about the time he hurt that fleshy bit under his tongue, especially. He was still a little proud of that one, even if it’d hurt, because Hanzo had loved every second of it, let Jesse tongue-fuck him so long he’d complained about stubble burn the next day.

“Did, or have done,” Hanzo corrected, dragging him back to the present. Jesse covered his face with a hand. Hanzo fisted his hand in Jesse’s shirt, looked down at him almost angrily. “I do not know what you think this is, but that old man is  _wrong_. I like you, and I am  _here_  because I want to be, nothing more or less than that.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest—”

“Stop _talking_ ,” Hanzo said, and Jesse laughed, felt a little helpless with it. “You are not my… my  _pet_. You are my boyfriend, and as such, I have expectations.”

Jesse pushed him just gently, got himself up onto his elbows. He wondered if they could have every serious chat like this, Hanzo kneeling across his lap. “Boyfriend, huh?” he asked, and he could feel the dopey smile on his face.

“ _Yes_. You said you didn’t expect to find someone else. Was I— Did I misunderstand you again?”

He looked briefly unnerved, his fingers loosening as if to pull away. “No, darlin’,” Jesse said in a rush, grabbing for one of his hands. “Boyfriend’s fine. More than fine. It’s perfect.”

Hanzo nodded, and he seemed to relax a little, except for the way he still kept tugging on Jesse’s shirt. “And did you think I would willingly keep company I didn’t enjoy?”

“Not at all,” Jesse said, and Hanzo seemed annoyed by his smile. Jesse didn’t care so much, took the chance to brush his thumb along Hanzo’s brow. “You were sayin’ somethin’ about expectations?”

“Yes.” Hanzo stared at him, too heavy and serious for all the lightness in Jesse’s chest. “Reyes appears to believe I am holding you back. I told him I’ve done nothing of the sort, but he isn’t wrong that  _you_  have held back.”

“Okay,” Jesse said slowly, still confused.

“You don’t have to take all the classes Angela wants from you, but you should  _at least_  finish your primary education.” Jesse laughed a little, and Hanzo jerked on his shirt again when he started to shake his head. “I want a boyfriend who doesn’t think he’s stupid, and I want one who has the opportunities he deserves beyond Blackwatch. Reyes thinks you’ll be here for life, but he agrees with me that you should have _options_.”

Jesse looked at him, a little stunned. Hanzo was so serious, hands fisted in his shirt still, and all Jesse wanted was to kiss him some more. “Okay,” he said again, then laughed a little. “I gotcha. I’ll look into it. Gonna need to work on how you present these things, though.”

Hanzo’s cheeks went a little pink, but he didn’t relent. “Good. The next classes begin in two weeks, and Reyes tells me he has left a spot open for you for _years_.”

Jesse laughed and pulled him in, and Hanzo went with it, let Jesse kiss him with his hands cradling Hanzo’s face. It was gentle, Hanzo’s tongue curling careful and delicate against his, like Jesse was something precious to him. It made his heart skip a beat, and this time he didn’t try to fight it, instead leaned into it and into Hanzo’s arms. He wanted to keep kissing him, but a thought nagged, persistent in the back of his mind.

He finally broke off, laughing a little. “Okay, wait. Why’d that talk take you so long?”

Hanzo looked annoyed that he wasn’t being kissed, but at least he answered, even as he plucked loose the buttons on Jesse’s shirt. “I don’t believe he wants me to tell you,” Hanzo said, mouth curled up in that way that said he was teasing. “I had to convince him of my intentions.  _And_ I had to promise to be a good influence.” Hanzo grinned outright at that, his eyes hot on Jesse as he peeled him out of his shirt. “Obviously I had to lie about that part.”

Jesse laughed a little, leaned back a little to let Hanzo’s quick hands get to work on his belt. “Are you tellin’ me you asked Gabe for his approval to keep seein’ me?”

“ _Ask_ is a strong word for it. We had a discussion. He is  _far_ too invested in your romantic life for a superior, but not all of his ideas were terrible.” Hanzo shrugged, and Jesse laughed. Then he did what he’d wanted to do since he found out how Hanzo reacted to it: he held him close and kissed him as sweet as he knew how, and he did it until Hanzo was practically limp against him, melted hip to chest against Jesse’s body, fingers curled sweetly into Jesse’s hair. Jesse guided them both down onto the sheets, and Hanzo tangled their legs together. Jesse lost track of time like that, couldn’t have even  _guessed_ at how long he got to spend licking slow and careful into Hanzo’s mouth or catching either of Hanzo’s wet lips between his own, until it was Hanzo who was gasping, Hanzo who chased his mouth whenever he pulled away. He dragged a hot hand down Jesse’s back, tucked it into the dip just above Jesse’s belt and pulled, rolling Jesse’s hips against the thigh he slotted between Jesse’s legs.

Jesse shucked Hanzo’s shirt up, got it all the way up to his armpits before Hanzo would let his mouth go long enough to undress. It mussed his hair, made it stick up in places, and Jesse laughed and pulled the rest of it loose from its tie, pushed Hanzo onto his back to take a long look at him. His cheeks and lips were both red, and Jesse ran his fingers over one hot cheekbone, the other hand over his honestly  _ridiculous_ torso. “My boyfriend is fuckin’ gorgeous,” Jesse announced with a laugh, and he watched Hanzo preen at the attention. “I am a lucky son of a bitch.”

He leaned in to kiss him again, and Hanzo laughed right into his mouth. “I’m lucky too,” he said, eyes hot on Jesse’s face. He pushed a lock of hair off Jesse’s forehead, and Jesse went still. “What is it? Are you the only one allowed to  _admire_?” Hanzo teased, and Jesse blushed a little.

“Guess I hadn’t given it much thought,” Jesse said, and Hanzo laughed. “Been a little busy lookin’ at you. You got any idea what you do to me?”

Hanzo laughed again and sat up a little, ran his fingers over Jesse’s face. “Perhaps some idea. You  _do_  run your mouth.” He pressed his fingertips there, and Jesse kissed them almost by reflex. “I like your mouth,” Hanzo said.

Jesse laughed. “No kiddin’,” he teased, and Hanzo smirked at that.

“It is very talented.” He leaned up, pressed his lips right next to his fingers. Jesse didn’t know what to say to that. “I like how it looks too, though. Especially when you smile.” He had that look about him again, the intense, focused one that wound Jesse up and made him a little antsy all at once.

“You’re gonna make me blush if you keep it up,” Jesse told him.

“Good,” Hanzo said, lips quirked into a wry smile. “I like making you blush.” He still had his fingers on Jesse’s face, tracing slowly and just  _looking_. His other hand pushed gently through Jesse’s hair. “I like this too.” He gave a tug that made Jesse’s eyes want to close. “Your hair is so soft.”

Jesse didn’t know what to say to _any_ of it, could only go still and watch Hanzo’s face as Hanzo ran his hand through Jesse’s hair to curl around the back of his neck. “I like how big you are,” he said, and when Jesse started to laugh, Hanzo rolled his eyes. “I meant  _all_  of you. Your shoulders especially. And your arms.”

“Oh,” Jesse said. He couldn’t come up with a better response, had no idea what to  _do_  with himself as Hanzo just looked and touched and talked.

“My hand fits just right,” Hanzo said, pressing his palm between Jesse’s shoulder blades.

“These are perfect for all that cuddling you like to do,” Hanzo said, squeezing Jesse’s pecs after he got Jesse on his back again.

“You have just the right amount,” Hanzo said, carding fingers through Jesse’s chest hair and down over his stomach.

“I like your hands,” when Jesse tried to distract him with a palm on his cheek. Hanzo sank his teeth into the heel of his hand, nuzzled at Jesse’s fingers and down over his wrist, over the spot where Jesse’s pulse jumped and sizzled. “They fit everywhere I want them.” Hanzo’s eyes glittered darkly, and Jesse sucked in a breath.

“These are big too,” running hot fingers over Jesse’s thighs, leaving trails of heat and goosebumps in their wake. “Strong,” he murmured as he pushed them apart, got them propped on his own thighs.

“And this,” as he curled fingers around Jesse’s cock, “this also fits perfectly, anywhere I want.” Jesse felt his stomach clench, felt his whole jittery world narrowing down to that touch.

“Jesus, darlin’,” Jesse grit out, hands fisting in the sheets. Hanzo wasn’t doing anything different, nothing he hadn’t done before, but his words and the way he stared left Jesse helpless, shuddering uselessly and turning to putty in his hands.

“I like how your dick looks,” Hanzo said, and it wasn’t a real eloquent thing to say but it still made Jesse tremble. “And how it feels.” His hand curled and tugged, thumb rough over the slit, smearing Jesse’s precome down to ease the glide of his fingers. “In my hand. In my mouth. Inside me.” He punctuated each with a squeeze and pull, and Jesse heaved in a shaky breath, shut his eyes thinking about all of those at once.

“I like this too,” Hanzo purred at him, trailing a hand under Jesse’s balls to catch dry fingers on his rim. Jesse shuddered again, threw an arm across his eyes to try to  _hide_  somehow. He’d never had much shame about his body, but he’d never given it a whole lotta thought past what he could do with it, never had someone insist on paying it so much attention. He felt strange, like it didn’t even really belong to him any more, his skin oversensitive and muscles at war, relaxed one second and so tense they shook the next.

He barely caught the click of the lube opening, but he felt it when Hanzo’s fingers, cool and drenched, started to stroke their way inside, pushing and stretching with the kinda patience Hanzo never really showed without Jesse talking him into it. Hanzo’s long fingers coaxed and curled, dragged with intent over his prostate, and Jesse seized and groaned, bit down on the heel of his hand, same place Hanzo’s mouth had been before.

“Look at me,” Hanzo said, and Jesse couldn’t deny him anything at that point. He stared at Hanzo, who stared right back, focused, looking like a prince knelt between Jesse’s legs, with his hands slowly pulling Jesse apart. “You told me I was greedy,” and he twisted his hand, stretched Jesse wide open on his fingers. “I am. I want everything you have to offer.”

“It’s yours,” Jesse rasped, then rolled his eyes to the ceiling at the combined assault of both Hanzo’s hands. “Anythin’ you want.  _I’m_  yours.” Hanzo commanded him to look again, and Jesse did, gasped at the sight and the feel of him lining up his cock.

“Say it again,” Hanzo told him as he slid home in two short, jagged thrusts. Jesse did, over and over until he couldn’t any more, because Hanzo might’ve kissed him and opened him up like he was something precious, but he fucked Jesse like he wanted to break him, angled Jesse’s hips until it was all he could do to  _breathe,_ much less think or speak or do anything but hike his thighs up higher on Hanzo’s waist and  _feel_  the heat sparking through his body, infusing every nerve and muscle with it.

Hanzo pressed his palm flat, low on Jesse’s belly, and somehow he could feel  _more_. Overwhelmed as he was, he nearly sobbed again, felt all that heat build up and escape in one huge, mind-numbing rush, making a mess all over Jesse’s stomach and Hanzo’s hands. Dazed and trembling with relief, he watched Hanzo break apart too, the color high on his cheeks and his face screwed up tight.

“Shit,” Jesse breathed when he finally found his voice again. Hanzo curled around him, arranged them so he could nuzzle into Jesse’s chest. “What was that?”

Hanzo didn’t answer the question directly, just hummed sleepily somewhere near Jesse’s sternum. “I think I knew,” he said after a moment. “The first time I saw you. I think I knew then that you were for me.”

* * *

Gabe was wrong. Gabe was completely, entirely wrong about Hanzo being bad for Jesse, and Jesse was gonna make him eat his words. Because, as it turned out, Jesse wasn’t stupid at all, just needed the discipline and the right kind of motivation to get him through these boring equivalency courses. And as it turned out, Hanzo’s born-with-it bossiness and impressive self-discipline turned out to be great motivators.

The rewards for studying didn’t hurt either, and neither did the realization that Hanzo wasn’t just driven by discipline but was an honest to god  _nerd_. Genji cackled and made fun of them both, but even he seemed a little proud when Jesse came out the other side of it with his diploma and test scores that said in another life, he really couldhave gone to college.

Jesse celebrated his success the best way he knew how: by falling face first into his boyfriend’s incredible ass. He was busy straining his tongue again and overworking the hinge of his jaw when Hanzo finally said it:

“Please.”

Jesse was so startled that he paused what he was doing. “What’s that?”

“ _Please_ , Jesse,” Hanzo breathed out, ending with a noise that Jesse would  _never_ tell him sounded like a giggle. “I need  _more_.”

And Jesse really wasn’t stupid. He knew — even as he slid his middle finger in right to the knuckle, even as he muttered “you gotta ask nicer’n that, lemme hear you” — that it was all for show. Hanzo was honestly kind of bad at it, had to keep his face hidden; he couldn’t hide the way his voice broke on a laugh occasionally, though Jesse could still be proud of the way the laugh sometimes broke on a gasp or moan. Jesse’s dick didn’t seem to give a damn if it was fake or not.

His heart got a little caught up in it too, probably making more of it than it had any right to. It was the last thing on the list, and the first dumb fantasy he’d ever shared with Hanzo. And Hanzo still wasn’t always sweet, not in ways normal people might notice, but it was the kinda thing he’d do for Jesse and only Jesse. So Jesse played along, drew it out and teased until at least a couple of those  _please_ s started to sound real enough, harsh with impatience, until he couldn’t deal with it any more and had to grab Hanzo by the hair and fuck him like both their lives depended on it.

Outside the bedroom, Hanzo still wasn’t exactly nice to most other people, but he did lighten up a little, let Gabe and some of their teammates see that he actually had a sense of humor. And if he was still a little fucking scary on the job, he also needed more and more convincing that what they were doing was  _right_  before he’d get too eager. He blamed Jesse for it, right before he kissed him.

Jesse was nose deep in brochures, trying to decide if these other classes — the college replacement ones — were gonna be worth it, when Hanzo said the other thing:

“I love you.”

Jesse didn’t have a dumb reaction that time, except maybe the size of his grin. “Yeah? I love you too.” The words came easy, without a second thought.

Hanzo said it again with a hand down Jesse’s pants. He said it when they made it back from a close call. He said it during sex, before bed, after an argument. He said it with a terrifying weight when he saw the writing on the wall again, when he and Genji and Jesse all decided they had to get out of Blackwatch before everything went to shit. He said it with his hand clenched white knuckled around Jesse’s, sitting next to Genji in a café in Kansas City, watching the recurring sixty-second clip of the burning headquarters in Geneva. He said it after Genji left, took off on his own adventure and left Hanzo with only Jesse.

He said it with every bounty they brought in, with every report that their own bounties grew, with every fight and fuck they had. He said it over and over and over, sometimes laughing and sometimes serious and sometimes even a little angry, and Jesse said it back every time, because Hanzo — still bossy and mercurial and kind of a fucking weirdo — loved him, was just as much Jesse’s as Jesse was his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Listen, I did not sign up to write this many feelings. This really was gonna be 90% porn. I did the math, though, and it's more like 49% porn? Anyway, thanks for sticking around and reading! I hope you were as entertained as I was writing it. <3
> 
> If you want to come be a big ol' fannish dork with me and endure my spam + lots of drabbles, you can catch me on Tumblr @ [robo-cryptid](https://robo-cryptid.tumblr.com).
> 
> \---
> 
> Updated June 3, 2018: [BloomingCnidarians](https://bloomingcnidarians.tumblr.com) drew some [delightful (and surprisingly SFW) art for this chapter](http://bloomingcnidarians.tumblr.com/post/174520193033/he-wondered-if-they-could-have-every-serious-chat), and I LOVE.


End file.
